


For Peace and Zuko

by beersforqueers



Series: Zukka Arranged Marriage [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Angsty Zuko, Enthusiastic Consent Later, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Future Fic, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Requested fic, Sokka is Cranky, The MOST Canon Divergent, Zuko is Awkward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-11 04:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 43,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4421927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beersforqueers/pseuds/beersforqueers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a universe when Ba Sing Se fell and Ozai never became Fire Lord, the war finally ends… Iroh and Hakoda hatch a marriage plot to bring the Water Tribes and Fire Nation into alliance, with Sokka and Zuko caught in the middle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Letters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dickpuncher420](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dickpuncher420/gifts).



> For interextrovert, allisonkayleen, halliwellslegacy and everyone else who left such amazing feedback on my fics thus far. interextrovert asked for it, so here it is (in the beginning stages at least): your arranged marriage AU featuring Zukka.

_Chief Hakoda,_

_Reparations for the war have been ongoing, but I thought it wise to send you a personal letter about their progress. As you know, after the sacking of Ba Sing Se and the near-death of my son, I became disenchanted with the war. When Fire Lord Azulon died and I assumed the role of Fire Lord, I felt it prudent to end the suffering of the world and restore balance. With the help of the Avatar, my brother’s rebellion repressed, and the dawn of a new age on the horizon, I feel that now is the time for a display of hope and unity among the 4 nations._

_With this in mind I have been in contact with the Earth King. In light of the nature of inter-Nations marriages in many Fire Nation’s colonies, we agree that these unions should be accepted and encouraged. Although the Earth King has no children or relatives, the idea was suggested that perhaps a marriage between members of two royal families would be politically practical. With the daughter of the Northern Water Tribe Chief so recently deceased, I am reticent to suggest the possibility to him, but am under the impression that you have two children. My son Lu Ten must be able to produce heirs for my bloodline, but I have a niece and nephew who I have assumed guardianship of. My nephew in particular is of marriageable age and has previously shown interest in both young men and women. A portrait is enclosed for your review._

_I hope that this arrangement may be amenable to you, and that you will see its advantages. An alliance between the Fire Nation and the Water Tribe after so many years of strife will surely provide the world with optimism about the future._

_Yours most sincerely,_

_Fire Lord Iroh_

_Supreme Ruler of the Fire Nation_

_Capital City_

_***_

_Fire Lord Iroh,_

_Regarding your plans for a display of unity among the nations, we are in agreement. Although it remains to be seen how my son will respond to the news, I believe him to be an excellent choice for your nephew. He is similarly inclined, having had several previous dalliances with young men (none of which have rendered him unsuitable for marriage, I assure you)._

_Although my daughter could also be considered, I believe it likely that she and the Avatar will soon become engaged. As the chiefdom of the Southern Water Tribe is not heritable—and therefore heirs are unnecessary—my son is appropriately high-ranking for the honor of marriage to your nephew, but his absence poses no long-term difficulty for the tribe._

_Arrangements can be made at your soonest convenience for our arrival. My son has previously travelled and would, I’m sure, be obliging if a complete removal to the Fire Nation Capital City were to become necessary. I imagine that warmer climes would be more welcome to him than the South Pole would be to your nephew. A similar likeness of my son is included for the young prince’s benefit._

 

_I await your reply,_

_Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: New, improved, and with [tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	2. The Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One month later on the way to the Fire Nation…

“I really hate you right now.”

“I know, son,” Hakoda sighed and stared glumly at the boy opposite him. Sokka was slumped over his seat, staring moodily out of the porthole of their ship.

“I’m not gonna hate you forever, but right now…” Sokka stroked the edge of his boomerang as though imagining flinging it across the chamber, giving his father a nice bruise to match the thrumming ache that permeated his own chest.

“You know why this is necessary,” Hakoda said tiredly. This was a conversation they had repeated over and over again since the letter from the Fire Lord. Sokka had been so excited when he’d first seen the messenger hawk ( _How did they even train them? It was so fucking_ **cool** _!_ ), but once he’d learned of its contents that leaden weight had descended on his chest. It was still there, unyielding and unchanging no matter how frequently his father told him it was for the best. For the glory of the Water Tribe, for the continuation of peace, for the honor their family would experience at his betrothal to a prince.

 _A Fire Nation prince_  he scowled to himself. _The same bastards that killed my mother_. But the thought didn’t have any rage in it anymore. By the time he and his sister had found Aang and begun travelling with him, by the time they had reached the Fire Nation and seen the funeral procession for the Fire Lord, he had known… Revenge wasn’t worth it. Iroh was a much better man and leader than his father, and it was useless to think that any more war could bring his mother back. Helping Aang and Katara put down Ozai’s rebellion had been an adventure, but he no longer felt like tagging along while they travelled the world restoring peace. He had just wanted to go home and be with his father.

…who had promptly sold him out.

He ran a finger over his boomerang again, wishing that all it would take to stop this trip was a smart smack on the head with Mr. B. But no, a concussion wouldn’t return his father to his senses.

Sokka glared down at the other object clasped in his lap. He hadn’t gone anywhere without it since receiving the news from his father about his imminent marriage. It was a small rectangle of framed artwork… much more luxuriously painted and adorned than his own portrait, he knew, but just a picture nonetheless. Except that this one now meant so much more to him than any stupid painting his dad made him sit for.

The boy in the painting was pale and elegant, his long black hair tied up into a simple bun by a length of golden ribbon. He was very handsome, Sokka supposed, all golden eyes and silky hair and high cheekbones… except that the left side of his face was horribly marred by a deep red burn scar. It was a credit to the Fire Lord’s honesty that he didn’t try to lessen its effect in the painting, but it was still jarring. On anyone else Sokka would have thought the scar was hot and mysterious, but knowing that it belonged to his future husband sort of took the allure away. In his current frame of mind, its every crag and fissure became exaggerated, expanding to fill the entirety of the portrait.

“They say he stood up to his father during the rebellion,” Hakoda said quietly. “A brave young man.”

Sokka grunted, not looking up. The scar sort of looked like a handprint, and he traced a finger across the upper edge of it. He hadn’t been able to imagine this prince— _Zuko_  his mind provided—but hearing those few words from his father humanized him a little. What would it be like to have your own father burn you like that? Did he, Zuko, feel like it was worth it to stand up against him? Had it been in defense of his uncle, who had now adopted him as his own? Sokka knew that the princess had been imprisoned for her own part in the uprising, that his mother had returned for the time being to her own small village. Would he have been different if his mother had survived like Zuko’s? But then again, he didn’t have a psychotic dad who tried to melt his face or a sister with anger issues who had to be held captive for her own good. Just a sister who was off having oogies with her new boyfriend. He loved Aang and all, but he couldn’t handle being with them when they were together these days.

“Why me?” he muttered. He hadn’t really intended to say it aloud, but when he heard his father sigh again, he knew he’d heard. And suddenly he wanted to know the answer. They’d tiptoed around it, they’d caged what they really meant in fancy words, they’d argued and made up and argued again. So here was the moment. Sokka was fully prepared to hear that it was because he wasn’t useful: not a bender; barely a warrior; too boneheaded to be a chief; tech-acumen unhelpful in the spears-and-igloos world of the Water Tribe.

Instead his father drew in a deep breath and said, “It’s not entirely about you, Sokka.”

He began to puff up indignantly ( _he_  was the one getting sent to be official buttboy to His Royal Highness after all), but then, “You just deserve more than the Southern Water Tribe. Don’t get me wrong,” Hakoda ran a hand over his face, “I love our home. But you’re a bright, funny, good-looking kid. You shouldn’t be stuck on the South Pole forever. You’ve seen the world now, and I can tell you aren’t content with just a village anymore. We’ll be under the thumb of the Northern Water Tribe for as long as I can imagine. Why shouldn’t you get out and make a life while you still can?”

“But I’m not leaving to make a life,” Sokka whispered. “I’m leaving to marry some royal asshat.”

Hakoda snorted, “That doesn’t mean much, son. Being married to royalty doesn’t mean you have to love them. You’ll have money and time now, and you’ll get to do whatever you want. But I don’t know…” he smiled slyly at Sokka. “From what his uncle has told me, you should get on just fine with Prince Zuko.”

Sokka huffed irritably and tucked a strand of hair back into his wolf-tail. He would have found it creepy to begin with that his dad was interfering with his love life: the fact that it was this flagrant and this, well, permanent, made it even worse. Having his father explain how he hoped it was for the good of his future, though… He couldn’t decide whether he was still determined to be angry, or if he should start to forgive him for the intrusion. Either way, he didn’t know what to say to him anymore. And he wasn’t sure he ever would. At least not until he’d met this stupid prince.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: New, improved, and with [tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	3. Anticipation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG they're gonna meet soon! I won't lie, I really love writing those scenes… so much fun tension
> 
> Also, while I write I literally start speaking everything that Iroh is supposed to say (in an Iroh voice) to make sure that it sounds right. Does this mean I'm crazy?

“He probably won’t even like me.”

“You do not know that, nephew.”

Zuko turned on his heel and paced back towards his uncle, who was seated cross-legged on a cushion by the fire.

“Yeah, I do,” Zuko said aggressively. “I mean,  _look_  at me!” Iroh surveyed him placidly from over the rim of his teacup.

“I fail to understand your point,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up wryly.

“Ugh!” Zuko threw his hands up as he reached his uncle and whirled around to pace back across the length of the throne room. “I’m, I’m—“ he wanted to say _disfigured_  but couldn’t quite bring himself to it, “—a _mess_!” he finished lamely. It wasn’t a lie: he hadn’t even brushed his hair that morning, he’d been so agitated. It hung in rumpled black curtains around his pale face, and his robes weren’t done up properly. They dragged behind him as he strode between the columns of the chamber. He’d spent the entire day in various states of undress and disorganization, taking it in turns to stomp around his bedchamber and flop morosely on his bed.

“Nothing a bath wouldn’t correct,” Iroh said.

“A bath won’t make him like me!” Zuko said. He was aware that he was probably being a bit melodramatic, but at the same time he was about to meet his future _husband_  and he’d been given barely a month’s notice that he was getting married at all!

He plunged a hand into the voluminous pocket of his robe, fingering the hard edge of the miniature he’d been carrying since it had arrived. Painted on a thin sheet of delicate paper affixed to bone plate, the image was contrastingly bold and depicted a strapping youth of about 17. He was striking, with smooth brown skin and bright blue eyes, his dark hair pulled back and shaved severely on either side. He was staring seriously at the viewer, one hand tense on the boomerang at his hip, but his eyes danced with a secret mirth. It was as though he knew a joke that he wasn’t keen on sharing with anyone else.

Zuko’s stomach writhed. He was gorgeous, much too gorgeous for Zuko, and he wasn’t sure how he would react when he arrived. Probably freeze up and become incapable of speech, if past experience served as any indication.

“You are a handsome young man, Prince Zuko. Any boy would be lucky to marry you,” Iroh called from across the room.

Zuko snorted derisively. Empty words… Uncle already cared for him, and so his opinion meant nothing. This Water Tribe youth was an entirely unknown quantity.

He hand drifted up to his face, and he was almost surprised to see it holding the corner of the portrait. There were those shockingly blue eyes again, silently laughing at him out of the paper.

“Why would he want to marry me?” he sighed.

“Was I supposed to offer him Azula?” Iroh asked, smiling.

“I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,” Zuko said, letting a small smile cross his face for his uncle’s benefit.

“In all seriousness, Zuko, I know something of the boy,” Iroh said. “I believe him to be exactly what you are in need of. Much less trouble than that Earth Nation boy,” he spared a moment to frown off into the distance, “and more passionate by far than your dour female friend. By all accounts he is a bright and humorous young man.”

Zuko scowled. So uncle’s meddling was for his own good, was it? “And what about the alliance with the Water Tribes?”

“A happy coincidence,” Iroh shrugged. “You have plumbed my many ulterior motives before this day. Are you here this afternoon just to express your anxiety?”

“I don’t…” Zuko trailed off, then moved to sit beside his uncle. He dropped the picture into his lap. “I don’t know. I just needed to talk I guess.”

“Have some tea,” Iroh passed a cup to him and resumed drinking from his own. “Tea helps clear a troubled mind.”

“Like you always say,” he said, but he took a sip. It was jasmine pearls, just as he’d expected. “When will they arrive again?” he asked, trying to ignore the nervous flutter in his abdomen.

“Tomorrow I should think,” Iroh pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I have arranged for a procession from the docks and a private dinner for just the family.”

“Oh,” Zuko combed his fingers through his hair, still staring into his lap.

Iroh followed his eyes to the picture, “You need only be yourself, Zuko. You are more attractive with that scar than you ever were without it, because it demonstrates that you have had experiences. Your youthful beauty will fade, but the lessons you learn in this life will never waver. If your betrothed is half the man I think he is, he will come to understand this.” He plucked the painting from Zuko’s robes and held it up to examine, “He really is quite the looker, isn’t he?” He nudged Zuko companionably in the ribs with his elbow and gave him an enormous wink.

“Yes, he is,” Zuko said, rolling his eyes. He kept his hands wrapped around his teacup in order to resist the temptation to seize the miniature from his uncle’s hand.

“Ah well,” Iroh said, handing it back to him, “I suggest that you consider bed, Prince Zuko. We have a big day tomorrow.”

Zuko set down his untouched tea and stood. He was still unsure how best to interact with his uncle when formality was necessary… As Fire Lord he deserved all the respect due to the ruler of their nation, but as his uncle, he was just that. Iroh, as he always had been. Iroh seemed to understand and waved him away when he made to bow. “A simple ‘thank you’ will suffice,” he said.

“Thank you, Fire Lord Iroh,” Zuko said stiffly, inclining his head. His uncle frowned slightly but did not comment as he turned to leave the throne room.

The doors closed behind him with a sonorous clang, and he stood still in the cool hallway to clear his head for a moment. The guards dutifully ignored this, standing still and silent to either side of the entrance.

He finally set off, striding quickly towards his chambers. His rooms weren’t far from the throne room, but the palace was large and it always took longer than he expected to reach his destination. The heavy red drapery and solid golden furnishings felt more oppressive than usual tonight, and he longed to reach his own bed.

The guards outside of his door moved aside without prompting when they saw him arrive. He nodded to them as he slipped inside, leaning back against the doors once they were secured. He was suddenly very tired. The day had consisted of little more than anxious perseveration, but that was enough to drain him. He wanted to sleep, but that would bring tomorrow closer, and with tomorrow…

He looked around the room. He had requested that most of his furnishings be removed so that there was little more than his bed, a small table set in front of the fireplace, a few trunks, and a desk in the corner. His bath chamber led off directly to his right, but he didn’t want to heed Uncle just yet.

Instead he crossed to the fireplace and ignited the logs with a flick of his wrist, sinking down in front of them to stare into the flames. He knew that right at this moment the servants were busily preparing the rooms above his for the Water Tribe delegation’s arrival. His husband would be moving into those chambers tomorrow, and their wedding would be held soon after.

He wasn’t sure he was ready, especially without having met him yet. He’d seen the letters between Uncle and Chief Hakoda, had read the words they’d etched across the paper in Uncle’s flowing script and the chief’s hard, blocky hand. “Several previous dalliances with young men” had stood out to him… what had Uncle told him? About the Earth Nation peasant he had spent a few nights with so long ago? About Mai, who he wasn’t sure he’d ever really wanted in the first place? “None of which have rendered him unsuitable”. Well, that wasn’t hard to interpret. He chuckled cheerlessly to himself. He had apparently been “rendered unsuitable” by the Water Tribesman’s approximation, although he assumed Uncle hadn’t divulged that much information. He hoped that Uncle himself didn’t have that much information, but who knew with the old coot?

Well at least his love life wasn’t something he’d ever have to worry about again… Sokka was stuck with him forever.

 _Sokka_  he thought to himself. _Sokka and Zuko_. He had to admit that it didn’t sound too bad. Would Uncle have Sokka declared a prince of the Fire Nation as well? Somehow he thought that this wouldn’t be received well by a warrior of the Southern Water Tribe, but what about this situation would? He had grown up knowing full well the horrors perpetrated by the Southern Raiders. Who knew how this boy would feel about the Fire Nation. _About me_  he thought hopelessly.

He pulled the portrait out again, although he already knew it by heart. His eyes traced the hard planes of Sokka's cheekbones, the stubborn set of his jaw, the mischievous twinkle in his eye. Maybe if he was lucky he would be able to win him over. Maybe if he was _really_ lucky this situation might not be so bad.

 _And maybe the Rough Rhinos will take up ballet_.

_  
_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking about potentially adding in some fan art sketches of Sokka and Zuko's betrothal portraits. Is that a thing anyone is actually interested in seeing, though?
> 
> Update: New, improved, and with [tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/) (sick of that yet?)


	4. The Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have gone a little bit overboard… You know, since I'm almost doubling the word count with this chapter alone!

The scrape of the boat hitting the dock made Sokka jump. He scrambled up out of his chair, wide eyes staring at Hakoda. He gestured at him frantically, momentarily unable to speak, and hoped that his father would understand what he meant. Hakoda took pity on him and nodded, “We’re here.”

“Oh man,” he flopped back into his seat with a moan. His life was over. His last few minutes as a free man and he had squandered them. 

“Up and at ‘em, son,” Hakoda grabbed him gently by the sleeve and tugged him upright once more. He chivvied him out into the hallway and up the stairs, smoothing at his deep blue coat unnecessarily as though trying to comfort him. He was dressed in the fanciest thing he had… something Gran Gran had sewn almost as soon as the Fire Lord’s letter had arrived. He wasn’t really used to silk, but he had to admit that this stuff was pretty nice. Nice enough that he tried to bat Hakoda’s hands away as he made to straighten a whalebone button.

“Don’t smudge the silk,” he hissed at him. His father snorted with laughter and pushed him out of the door and onto the deck.

He was met with dazzling sunlight and the sudden roar of thousands of people. He blinked into the light and realized that most of the city was waiting on the docks, squeezed onto neighboring piers, lining the walkways that led up the city, and hanging off of the rigging of boats docked nearby.

He gaped at them. “So many people—“ he said dumbly. Hakoda chuckled again.

“Everyone likes a parade,” he said, and began to make his way down the gangplank. Their contingent of Water Tribe soldiers flanked Sokka as he climbed down to stand next to his dad. “You ready?” he asked.

“Not even a little bit,” Sokka replied. Hakoda grasped his shoulder briefly in reassurance, then turned away to survey the gathering.

He peered up the dock too… at the top of the stone quay a low platform had been erected. It was surrounded on all sides by the flood of Fire Nation citizens, many of who were waving banners. He was surprised and a bit flattered to see that most of them were in Water Tribe colors. The platform had likewise been draped in a combination of red and blue, the fine silks fluttering in the wind off the ocean.

Hakoda marched forward and he followed, hanging back a few steps to appreciate the view. The volcano reared up suddenly in the fore of the scene, buildings clinging to its sides in clusters. Its ragged top was cleft in the center to make way for the road that climbed to its summit in graceful switchbacks.

Their sight was temporarily obscured as they made their way through the throng. Fire Nation soldiers—Sokka did his best to school his face into a neutral expression instead of hacking at them with Mr. Boomerang—pressed towards them to clear a path, holding back the citizens who jostled excitedly to get a better look at them. At _him_  he realized suddenly. They were here to see him, the boy who was betrothed to their prince.

As they neared the platform, the crowd cleared completely to reveal a set of steps leading up. Sokka paused, ducking his head slightly to avoid a flapping silk hanging. He could suddenly see the interior of the dais. The Fire Lord was in the center, rising from a throne-like chair to spread his arms in welcome, his round face beaming. He was in full formal regalia, his topknot adorned with a small golden crown, his crimson robes sweeping behind him at he raised his arms to greet them.

…and there he was, standing solemnly on his uncle’s right.

Prince Zuko was taller than Sokka had expected, and he looked older as well. He was gazing fixedly at the floor in front of him, but when his uncle stood he started. His contemplation broken, his eyes swept the crowd, finally alighting on Sokka.

Sokka felt his breath catch in his chest.

It wasn’t his looks that took Sokka’s breath away, although seeing him in person made it clear that his portrait was a pale imitation. No, it was the burning look in his eye: the fierce expression that said he was there only under duress. Well, Sokka could respect that. He didn’t want this to get any more personal than it had to anyway, and he hated all this pomp and ceremony.

But then the eyes met his and softened with shocking rapidity, irritability fading to give way to… what? His eyes were like liquid gold, and they were full of astonishment, as though Sokka had defied his expectations in that one moment alone. His chin rose so that Sokka could see his face fully for the first time. The scar was just as prominent as in the picture, but somehow it wasn’t as unsettling in the light of day. Its edges were smooth and flush with the plane of his cheekbone, and the slit of eye staring out at him was bright and just the least bit shy.

He was beautiful. The thought stunned Sokka, and he started a little as his father pressed a hand at the back of his arm, nudging him forward. He tore his eyes from the prince to smile up at the Fire Lord. He bent his head, intending to sketch a respectful bow, but instead the Fire Lord reached forward and grabbed him by the wrist. He was hauled unceremoniously into a bone-crushing embrace. He could just make out the appalled expression on the prince’s face from between thick grey skeins of hair.

He closed his eyes momentarily as though marshaling his energy, and then he spoke: “Uncle, you’re probably choking him.”

His voice certainly made Sokka feel like his own throat had been blocked. It was dark and low and just the right kind of hoarse. That was a voice made for the bedroom, goddammit. And he had wanted so badly to resist this.

“Oh dear, you are quite right,” the Fire Lord released him, still keeping hold of his upper arms. He held him out at arm’s length for examination, then threw his head back to let out an unexpected whoop of laughter. “He’s perfect, don’t you think, Prince Zuko? Such an attractive boy.”

Sokka flushed and glanced at Zuko. His eyes were closed again, and Sokka thought he saw him mouth a curse word to himself. His cheeks were reddening too and the sight made Sokka feel marginally better.

“You must call me Uncle Iroh,” the Fire Lord said, twinkling at him. “You are family now.” He leaned in and lowered his voice with a sly sideways glance at the embarrassed prince. “Would you like to meet my nephew?” he asked conspiratorially. He wrapped an arm around Sokka’s shoulders to swing him around towards Zuko. Sokka looked over his shoulder beseechingly at his father, but Hakoda had already noticed and had the audacity to _laugh_  at his plight. _Fucking typical_.

“This is Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation,” Iroh said, waving unnecessarily at his nephew, whose blush was deepening impressively.

“Uh, hi,” Sokka managed. “I’m Sokka.” He stuck a hand out. Zuko’s eyes snapped towards it, and he paled like Sokka had offered him a large and highly venomous iguana-spider. _Um, maybe not?_  but he was too far in to retract it now. _Nice first words, by the way_  he groaned to himself _’Uh, hi’ is really the best way to begin a lifetime stuck together. And a handshake?! A fucking HANDSHAKE?!_.

“Hello,” Zuko said softly, and Sokka wanted to melt. _Talk to me forever please?_  he wished fervently. “I’m Zuko.” An elegant hand appeared from out of the folds of his robe and extended to envelope his. It was warm and callused in all of the same places as his own.

“Yeah, I figured,” Sokka tried his best to project a confidence he didn’t really feel. So he didn’t introduce himself as “Prince”, did he? “You’re a swordsman?” he asked, running a thumb along the pad of Zuko’s index finger. Zuko shivered slightly, his eyes skittering away from Sokka’s.

“Yes,” he said. “You as well?”

“Yep,” Sokka said robustly. “Best in the Water Tribe.”

“I was under the impression the Water Tribe was known for its spearmen,” Zuko said, eyebrow lifting slightly.

“Well, yeah,” Sokka said, stung. Was Zuko actually a royal asshat? That would really suck. “But still!” he rallied around this one point of commonality. “We could spar, you know. To get to know each other…” _before we get hitched_  his brain finished.

Zuko’s mind seemed to be following similar lines because he blushed again. “Yes, I suppose that would be a good idea.” Sokka realized he was still holding his hand, but also that he didn’t mind much.

A loud guffaw from behind him broke the moment, however, and he hastily dropped Zuko’s hand. Hakoda and Iroh were standing together, and as he watched in amazement Hakoda clapped the Fire Lord on the back heartily as Iroh wiped a tear from his eye.

Zuko looked at Sokka with some trepidation, and Sokka wholeheartedly agreed with the concern in Zuko’s eyes.

“Um,” Zuko looked extremely uncomfortable, “the palace? Is this way?” He gestured up the hill towards the city.

“Oh. Riiight,” Sokka said, staring up at the dead volcano. “Caldera, right?”

“Yes,” Zuko said. He fell silent again, and Sokka had the distinct impression that he was being stared at. He tried not to look back at Zuko, but it was difficult. Iroh was ushering both of them into a gilded palanquin, and it was impossible to avoid one another in the small interior. He kept stealing glances at him from the corner of his eye as they began the ascent to the palace, only to accidentally meet Zuko’s eye and look away again. All of the city’s residents who hadn’t fit near the water had swarmed the main road up to the palace to watch the procession, and he waved as naturally as he could at some of them. They cheered and waved red and blue streamers through the air, clearly thrilled by his arrival.

Sokka’s mind was whirling. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined a display this exuberant or a Fire Lord who would hug him like a long-lost son. To be honest, he didn’t know what he had been expecting… maybe for Zuko to be a dick? He looked at him again. His face had smoothed back into an unreadable expression as he gazed out the side of the litter, and Sokka noticed the small metal ornament affixed to the front of his bun. It was in the shape of flame… a subtle reminder that he was both a firebender and a prince. A prince who had probably been pampered for most of his life. A prince who probably wasn’t interested in Sokka’s bumbling intrusion into his life. _You don’t have to love him_  his father had said. Well, maybe Zuko would just ignore him. He was certainly starting out that way.

Except that Zuko seemed awkward, not intentionally rude. He held himself in a tense, self-conscious posture, and the way that his eyes kept sliding back and forth as though he was trying to keep them away from Sokka was sort of adorable. Maybe he was a little standoffish, a little unused to Sokka’s stare, but he didn’t seem like a complete asshole. Maybe he wasn’t speaking because he just didn’t know what to say.

For the first time Sokka felt a small flare of hope burst in his chest.

 

***

 

Zuko was feeling perplexed. It wasn’t the same deep-seated “What is happening to my life?” confusion that had been nagging at him for the last month, but something of a more disturbing variety. The kind that he always felt creeping into the edges of his mind when he was around anyone even remotely attractive. _This is not good_  he thought weakly.

But he was having a hard time concentrating on anything in particular, because the boy from the portrait in his pocket was _right there_  and even more appealing in person. In fact, Sokka seemed larger-than-life, the kind of personality that made everything around him seem dim. Zuko was feeling both overwhelmed and distinctly tongue-tied by comparison. And so he had solved the problem of interacting with him by staring out of the side of the palanquin and pretending that he didn’t exist.

 _How is that working for you?_  he thought sardonically _Is that the plan for, I don’t know, the rest of your_ **life** _?_

“So what’s the deal with the whole ‘palace in a volcano’ thing anyway?” Sokka asked unexpectedly. Zuko turned to stare at him in surprise. The sun was drawing low to the tops of the mountains now, and it backlit Sokka in a decidedly stunning way.

Zuko ripped his attention away from the way the light was drawing reddish highlights out of Sokka’s hair to blink at him stupidly while the words processed. “Oh. Yes,” they were finally reaching the crest of the volcano, and the royal palace was coming into their line of sight, surrounded by the homes of the most prominent Fire Nation nobles. “Well, um, it’s because it’s the Fire Nation. And, you know, volcanoes... they’re hot. So…” he trailed off. It felt like all of his insides were shriveling. Sokka was clearly unimpressed, but took pity on him.

“Well that makes sense,” he said, staring out the front of the litter at the looming palace. “And from a strategic standpoint it makes it almost impossible to mount an attack without some warning.”

Zuko’s jaw dropped. _He knows about military strategy?!_  his brain backpedalled, trying to assimilate the new information. _Ugh, why is he so hot?!_

“Yes,” he said slowly. “I think that was also part of the idea. The Fire Nation Capital is one of the most heavily fortified cities in the world. The natural landscape provides barriers to invasion unsurpassed by—“

But he was cut short as the bumping of the palanquin as it was lowered to the ground outside of the palace. He had barely a second’s time to appreciate the look of mingled delight and respect in Sokka’s face at his ability to competently string a sentence together before Iroh was yanking back the hangings.

“Time for dinner, lovebirds!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: New, improved, and with [tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/) (you're definitely sick of this by now)


	5. The Dinner

“I have a gift for you.”

Their dishes had just been cleared, and everyone was lounging back on the cushions surrounding their dinner table. The meal had been strangely pleasant, with Iroh and Hakoda swapping tales and Sokka and Zuko making slightly stilted but amicable conversation.

Although Zuko said it very quietly, his face turned so that he was speaking it almost into Sokka’s ear, the entire table knew to fall quiet just at that moment.

“Oh,” Sokka said. He reached instinctively towards his own pocket, feeling the small box hidden in its depths. “I have one for you as well.”

“Oh,” Zuko echoed. His good eye was very wide, like he was taken aback. “I, well, shall I…?” He reached under the table to retrieve a small package nestled at his feet. Sokka nodded nervously. It was a long rectangular box tied with a length of blue satin ribbon. He pulled the knot free easily and lifted the lid.

Cushioned inside a layer of pale blue tissue was an engagement necklace. It was nothing like the one’s he’d seen Water Tribe women wear, however. It was clearly meant for a man, with a broad strap made of buttery white leather intricately tooled with blue. A small turquoise stone— _The same color of the water after a winter squall_ his memory provided—was affixed to the front of it.

He swallowed hard. The room suddenly felt like it was closing in on him, his vision narrowing to just the stone. It was smooth and flawlessly carved. It looked like jade. Maybe if he concentrated only on that stone he would be able to stop himself from throwing up all over the dinner table.

As if from a long way away, he heard himself say, “Do you want your present?” His voice was very flat. He reached into his pocket, fingers closing over the box as he looked back up at Zuko.

Zuko’s face was pinched and worried as he watched him, and Sokka wondered how much his own expression had given away. With shaking hands he handed his gift over, barely noticing Zuko’s hand closed momentarily around his.

Zuko’s slim hands made quick work of the wrapping. Sokka thought that maybe he was supposed to be taking a more active role in this, maybe he was supposed to say something, but all he could do was watch as Zuko slid back the lid. He had whittled the box himself from a piece of whalebone, cut each piece of the container precisely so that it would glide effortlessly when Zuko opened it. He couldn’t admire his own engineering now, though. Not when Zuko’s eyes widened as he stared down into it.

“It’s amazing,” he whispered. He gently lifted out the hairpiece. It was a simple sheet of copper, beaten into the shape of a flame not dissimilar to the one Zuko already wore. This one, however, Sokka had painted with many layers of lacquer so that the light reflected and refracted within it, throwing back countless shades of red, blue, and gold. The effect was such that the flame appeared to dance like a living thing.

“You don’t really have a traditional engagement gift,” Sokka said hurriedly. “But you wear the,” he circled his own head with a finger, “hair thingies. So I thought I’d try it out. You know, for you.”

“You made this?” Zuko looked up at him, his eyes shining.

“Well yeah,” Sokka said, feeling sort of uncomfortable. His eyes fell back to the engagement necklace in his lap and the uneasiness increased. The hairpiece was just a hairpiece. This necklace meant something, though, something sacred. He had left it in the box, but now he picked it up, feeling just how soft the leather was.

Mutely, he held it out to Zuko, who was still staring at him in that strange way. His gaze dropped to the necklace and he looked confused.

“Ugh, I can’t, you know,” Sokka gestured at the nape of his neck, “put it on myself. I need help,” he admitted.

“Right!” Zuko said, his face clearing. He set the hairpiece on the table, but his eyes kept darting back to it. It was like no one had ever thought to give him something meaningful before. Sokka frowned to himself. That couldn’t be right, though. He was a prince for gods’ sake. People must give him shit all the time.

He handed the necklace to Zuko and turned to give him better access. He closed his eyes as the warm weight of the leather settled around his neck, and tried to breath through the contact. _It isn’t too tight_  he repeated to himself. _It isn’t choking you._  Zuko’s fingers brushed the back of his neck, the rough calluses catching a little as Zuko worked the clasp together. He tried not to respond to the touch, but it was hard. He didn’t know how to begin sorting through the feelings it inspired in him: on one hand it was totally fucking weird to have a stranger getting so intimately acquainted with the back of his head, and on the other it was crazy that he didn’t actually _care_. In fact, part of his brain was sort of hoping that Zuko’s hands would linger.

Instead they drew back, but when Sokka turned back around Zuko was holding the hairpiece out to him.

“I don’t have a mirror,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up just the teensiest bit. It couldn’t be called a smile, but it was comforting to know Zuko had even an approximation of one in his repertoire.

Sokka took it from him. Zuko obligingly bent his head so that he could work the old one free, his tongue between his teeth while he extracted it from the ribbon without yanking Zuko’s hair out with it. Zuko’s hair was soft and thick, with that same heavy smoothness of fine silk. He was fairly distracted by this is as he inserted the new ornament into the topknot.

When he was done Zuko sat back and Sokka saw that his cheeks were very pink again. _Interesting_  he noted.

“You two look quite handsome,” Iroh said from the head of the table. They both jumped. Sokka had forgotten that there were other people at the table at all, and he knew his own face was reddening now, too. Zuko was positively scarlet.

“Yeah,” Hakoda agreed, winking at Sokka ostentatiously. “You’re lookin good, kid.”

“Oh my god,” Sokka groaned. How could he have forgotten his _dad_  was there?! Here he was, practically getting a boner over how fucking silky Prince Zuko’s hair was, and his dad was sitting, like, 4 feet away. _This is the most embarrassing day of my life_  he decided.

“Now that dinner is at an end,” Iroh said, inclining his head to Hakoda, “may I show you to your rooms? I am sure that my nephew can accompany Sokka to his.”

Hakoda nodded, grinning at Sokka knowingly as he stood and followed Iroh from the chamber.

Dead silence fell in their wake.

“Are you tire—“

“You don’t have t—“

They both fell silent again, not looking at each other.

“This is ridiculous,” Zuko finally said. Sokka looked around at him in surprise. His arms were crossed and he looked stubborn as he got up from his cushion and waved impatiently at Sokka to do the same. “Let me show you to your room.”

He turned on his heel and left the dining room, not waiting to see if Sokka was coming. He was, of course, but he felt a bit let down. Something had happened back there, and he wanted some kind of confirmation that it wasn’t all in his head.

He caught up to Zuko in the hallway and walked alongside him, trying to decide whether or not to address it.

Zuko took the opportunity away from him, “Your sister and the Avatar are coming for the wedding?”

“Oh!” Sokka’s mind swam back to the surface from where it had been trying to sort through his murky inner turmoil. “Yeah, they are. And my friend Toph. And maybe Teo. I invited him, but…”

Something in his voice must have caught Zuko’s attention, because he turned and cocked his eyebrow at him. “Who’s Teo?”

“Ugh…” Sokka wasn’t sure why it was so awkward to be having a conversation about their exes while walking to his bedroom, but it *really* was. “He and I were sort of a thing? I swear, I was into him for his mind! He was brilliant,” Sokka sighed, remembering their time together tinkering in Teo’s dad’s workshop, “but it didn’t work out. Obviously.”

“Ah,” Zuko said. Then, as though to prove he could counter Sokka, he said, “I had someone like that. He was an Earth Nation peasant, but I will say that I didn’t appreciate him for his mind. He had other, em, qualities I enjoyed.”

Sokka stopped dead in the middle of the hallway. _Oh my god. Is Zuko making a joke?_  He asked as much, and was relieved to see that little lift at the corner of Zuko’s mouth again.

“I couldn’t let you think I’m too sheltered,” he shrugged.

“Ok,” Sokka started walking again, thinking about how to phrase his next question. “So how come you’re ok with this whole thing?”

“What thing?” Zuko said, looking honestly curious.

Sokka swung his arms around to indicate their entire situation at the present moment, “The marriage thing! You dated, right? How come you’re being so calm about this arranged marriage?”

“You aren’t calm?” Zuko had stopped walking now. “You seem so… confident.”

“Confident?” Sokka yelped. “I’m scared out of my fucking mind! You’re a stranger!”

Zuko looked like Sokka had slapped him.

“I’m not calm either,” he said quietly. “But I was bred for this,” he shook his head slowly. “Getting married to someone your parents picked out isn’t unusual in my family. If you’re lucky, you don’t hate them,” his tone was neutral, but his eyes were closed off, shuttered. He began to walk again, not looking at Sokka.

He was feeling a bit alarmed now. _Stupid stupid stupid_  he chided himself. _You offended him. You just_ **told** _him you don’t want to marry him. Not that you have a choice…_  But looking at Zuko he realized all of a sudden that he didn’t have a choice either. They were in this together. Except not, because right then it felt like an enormous chasm had opened between them. _Today is so fucking weird_  he thought vehemently. He’d gone from scared Zuko would be a prick, to trying to coax him out of his awkwardness, to experiencing extreme sexual tension in the presence of a family member, to being worried he’d pissed off the dude who he was being forced to marry. Who he had _just met that day_.

“This is your room,” Zuko paused in front of a huge carved wooden door. “My apartments are just beneath… I believe that the construction has been completed on the connecting stairway. If you need anything come find me.” He stood and looked at the door, pointedly ignoring Sokka. “Good night.”

He turned and swept away into the shadows.

Sokka thunked his head dramatically into the doorframe. _Why can’t anything just be easy?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the sketches… mostly done, but I'm so incredibly shitty at anything tech related that we'll see if I ever actually manage to post them.. But thankfully you're here more for my questionable Zukka porn than my artistic skills, so never fear! Porn will be forthcoming and plentiful!!! PORN PORN FOR EVERYONE!
> 
> Update: New, improved, and with [tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/) (ah well, here it is again)


	6. The Wedding: Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I left you hanging! I was so busy working on the wedding night that I sort of forgot I had to write the wedding… which was surprisingly hard to do. So here's the first part of it, and I'll keep working on the rest tomorrow :-)

The palace gardens were the perfect place for a royal wedding. Zuko could see why his uncle had chosen them as he stood at the foot of the altar erected for the occasion.  The sky was a bright cerulean blue and the verdant greenery stood out in contrast, all of the flowers’ colors saturated in the warm morning sun. It would be a gorgeous setting for a wedding.

He hadn’t ever participated in a Fire Nation wedding… something he found only slightly amusing now that he was facing his own. He knew they would change the ritual a bit to allow for Sokka’s Water Tribe heritage, but he didn’t know much about what that entailed either. And now here he was, standing in front of the altar, wondering what the rest of his life would be like.

He’d been completely honest with Sokka last night. He really had been prepared for this his entire life, but now that it had arrived he wasn’t so sure any more. Especially since Sokka had admitted to being scared of him. _Am I really so repellant?_  he wondered. He knew his scar was ugly. He knew he wasn’t anyone’s ideal. But he’d hoped that Sokka would be able to see past that. He seemed like the sort of inherently kind person who would be able to. _Maybe that’s too much to ask right away_ he thought. _Agni, I shouldn’t have stormed off._  He let out a sigh. Now Sokka was probably angry at him on top of everything else. Trying to account for the reactions of a person he barely knew was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. He could hardly keep up with those he knew well.

“Zuko!”

He turned to see his uncle striding towards him from the palace. At his back was a tall woman, her long black hair pulled away from her face in a delicate golden net.

“Mother!” he finally managed a smile as she reached him. She took his face in her hands and as always he was surprised by how much shorter she was than him.

“My son,” she smiled up at him. “I come to congratulate you on your wedding day.”

“And tell you to get moving!” Iroh added. “You must get ready.”

“Already?” his eyebrow shot up. “It doesn’t start for hours!”

“Oh yes,” Ursa grinned. “Preparations will take the entire time.” She took her son by the arm and marched him back towards the castle.

He groaned. This was going to be a rough day. 

***

“I can’t believe Dad agreed to this,” Katara was perched on the edge of Sokka’s bed, idly bending a small globe of water from the pitcher on his nightstand.

“You and me both,” Sokka said. His voice was muffled from inside of his ceremonial robes. “Hey Aang,” he called. “A little help?”

“Sure thing!” Aang whirred towards him on his air scooter. There was a rustle and then the robes were yanked back down into their proper position. “This room is HUGE!” he said, bending his scooter back into motion to zoom across to the balcony.

“Yeah, it’s ginormous,” Sokka said, now grappling with his belts. The robes were in the Fire Nation style, and all the stupid layers had not been made for ease of entry. _It’s hotter than a fire breathing elephant-ape in this fucking country, and they wear layers?!_  he grumbled to himself. “Katara, can I get a little help here?!”

“Oh, of course!” she got up and moved towards him, easily buckling his belt into place. “Wow, you look good!” she pushed gently on his shoulder to turn him around. “Whose idea was the Fire Nation get up?”

“Dad,” Sokka said.

“You look nice in red,” she said. “But isn’t he upset you aren’t getting married in Water Tribe colors?”

“The hell if I know,” Sokka said, staring distractedly at himself in the mirror. “He seems pretty happy with himself about the whole thing.” The robes actually weren’t that bad now that he had them on… they fell in graceful red pleats from his waist to the tops of his stupidly point boots, and Hakoda’d had them trimmed in silver instead of Fire Nation gold to keep some of his own heritage included.

“What’s with that?” Katara asked, fussing with his hair.

Sokka shrugged, “He thinks Prince Jerkbender and I are gonna get on just fine.”

“What do you think?” Katara asked quietly. “You got thrown into this mess, not him. Do you think you could be happy here?”

Sokka thought for a moment. To be truthful, he wasn’t really sure. Zuko was hot, yeah, but also kind of an abrupt dickhead. Except that he didn’t seem like he meant to be an asshole, more like it just sort of happened that way.

“There may be some hope,” Sokka said softly.

“Huh,” Katara put a hand on his shoulder, looking searchingly up into his eyes. “You aren’t as freaked out as I thought you’d be.”

“I’m freaked out!” Sokka protested. “But I think…” he trailed off, not sure how she’d take his words, “I think I’m more freaked out about the concept of getting married than I am about Zuko.”

“Oh!” she blinked rapidly in surprise. “Um… well that’s good, right?” She stepped back from him.

They both jumped at a loud knock on the door.

“I’ll get it!” Aang jumped off of his scooter and promptly smacked into the door. Momo, who had been perched happily on his shoulder, streaked off under the bed with an angry chitter.

“Sokka!” Gran Gran and Hakoda entered together, his father holding a small box.

“Gran Gran, Dad,” he inclined his head to each of them respectfully, but he was eying the box warily.

“And me!” Toph stepped out from behind Hakoda’s broad girth, waving at him. “How ya doin, Snoozles?”

“Hey Toph,” he smiled. “I’m… ok.” But his eyes darted back to the package.

“We have another gift from your fiancée,” Gran Gran explained. “You aren’t supposed to see him today, but he bid us give this to you. Such a charming boy,” she smiled fondly.

“Uh, right,” Sokka said bemusedly. He took the box and opened it. It was a hairpiece similar to the one he’d given Zuko, except that it was made of silver and shaped like a cresting wave. “Huh,” he held it out at arms length. “Didn’t know they made ‘em like this.”

“Special order just for you,” Gran Gran twinkled up at him. “He was so nervous when he gave it to me, poor dear. Seemed to think you wouldn’t want to wear it.”

“Oh,” Sokka said eloquently. “No, um, I can—“ Katara snatched it from his hands and grabbed his ear. “OW, Katara!!!” he whined as she yanked his head down to her level.

“Shut up,” she said, grinning evilly at him. “There,” she said, her hands working his hair carefully into a topknot. “You don’t look half bad,” she stepped away.

“Shit,” he breathed, staring at himself. He looked like a Fire Nation prince. Well, besides how he actually looked. Gold eyes really weren’t part of his coloring.

“Language,” his grandmother admonished mildly.

“Right, sorry!” he winced. His family and friends gathered around him, staring into the mirror at his reflection.

Hakoda flicked his topknot fondly, “You look the part, son. You look ready.”

“Well I think he looks pretty dull,” Toph’s voice piped up from the back. “Get it?! Cause—“

Sokka groaned. This was gonna be a tough day.

***

“I’m not ready, I’m not ready,” Zuko paced back and forth in the antechamber.

“You’re ready,” Ursa said quietly. “I felt the same way when I married your father, and he led to you and Azula; the most important people in my life. You’ll be fine.”

“He doesn’t want to marry me,” Zuko said desperately. “Maybe we should call the whole thing off.”

“Zuko,” she said in her most commanding tone. “You don’t know how he feels. Are _you_  unhappy to be marrying _him_?”

“No, I don’t know,” Zuko admitted. “He’s… I mean…” _Considering that Uncle picked him out for me, he could be a lot worse._

Ursa’s eye were very kind as she gazed at him, “Give him the benefit of the doubt, son. Perhaps he’s just as nervous as you are.”

Zuko took a deep breath, pressing his trembling hands to his face. “Ok,” he said, trying to steady himself. “Is it time yet?”

“He’ll be here soon,” she assured him, peeking out around the silk curtain at the crowd. The chamber they stood in led out into the gardens, and thin red drapes had been hung across the arched doorways to provide privacy for these few moments before the ceremony. “His family has just arrived.”

“Right,” Zuko strode back across the tiles again, smoothing his tunic. Uncle had insisted on dressing him in Water Tribe finery for the wedding, and he had to admit that the blue was a nice change from wearing scarlet all of the time. It was trimmed in gold, however, to match the hairpiece Sokka had given him for their engagement.

“You look very handsome,” Ursa said.

“Thank you,” he turned and began to march back the other way, until—

“Hi.” Sokka was standing at the door to the antechamber. He looked… well, he looked amazing.  He was wearing crimson Fire Nation robes, his hair pulled up into a topknot adorned with Zuko’s gift. He felt his mouth go dry as he nodded jerkily in greeting.

“I should go take my place,” Ursa said, but she crossed the tiles to Sokka instead. “I have every faith in you to take good care of my son,” she said to a very awkward-looking Sokka. “Congratulations and good luck.” She slipped out of the furthest archway and was gone.

“Um…” Zuko wasn’t sure what to follow that with. Sokka was looking at him now, obviously wrong-footed. “Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s ok,” Sokka said, brushing it aside. “She’s a mom. She worries about you. That’s cool.”

“Your mother doesn’t?” Zuko asked.

“Uh, no, she’s dead. So,” Sokka said.

“Oh no,” Zuko felt all the blood drain from his face. “Oh Agni, Sokka, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

“You didn’t know,” Sokka clapped him on the back, obviously trying to smooth over the uncomfortable moment. “You look really good, by the way.” Zuko stared up at him, surprised to see that this time he wasn’t the one blushing.

“Thank you. You as well,” he said. Sokka was standing quite close to him, and suddenly he wanted…

 _Boom Boom Boom_.

The sound of a Fire Nation drum calling the guests to order made Zuko jump. He grabbed at Sokka in his shock and anxiety, then immediately tried to release him out of sheer embarrassment at the gesture. But Sokka held onto him, curling a finger under his chin to bring his face up closer.

“It’s gonna be ok,” he said seriously, his brow furrowed, his blue eyes very intense. He sounded like he was trying to reassure both of them, but Zuko was comforted nonetheless. He didn’t want to try to fathom why the sound of Sokka’s voice and the nearness of his body made him relax so readily, but he was grateful for it.

“You ready?” he asked.

Sokka nodded. He looked determined as he took Zuko’s hand and pulled back the curtain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: Did I mention I have a [tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/) now?


	7. The Wedding: Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know I feel about actually writing weddings, but it happened, and I don't think it's too bad! Maybe you'll have some feels… I definitely hope so. More exciting things are in the works and will be arriving shortly :-)

They stepped into the silence of the garden. Every eye swiveled to face them, and Zuko saw that many rows of chairs had been set up along the lawn facing the altar, leaving a long corridor of grass clear for them to walk along.

He looked once more at Sokka, but he was staring straight ahead at their destination. His hand contracted once around Zuko’s and then he let go.

“Prince Zuko, Tribesman Sokka,” Iroh’s voice boomed across the grass. “Approach the Altar of Agni.”

They moved forward. Zuko did his best to ignore the crowd, to pretend that they didn’t exist and that the only people present were his Uncle and Sokka. The tension in his chest eased a little the closer he got and the more Iroh came into view. Sokka’s sister stood at his side, smiling tenderly at her brother. He snuck another glance at him, and he saw that Sokka’s face had relaxed as his eyes rested on his sister.

They reached the altar and moved to face one another, Iroh standing beside Zuko, Katara beside Sokka.

“Under the light of Agni…” Iroh began to speak, but Zuko wasn’t listening any more. He was staring at Sokka, who was staring just as resolutely back at him. His eyes were so crystalline, full of a deep blue light that was only accentuated by the red of his robes. Zuko felt oddly touched that he would wear Fire Nation colors for their marriage, but he supposed that he had done the same thing himself. His mind began to slip away as he gazed at Sokka, eyes tracing across the sharp angle of his jaw, the soft curve of his lower lip, the tiny speckles of silver that flecked his irises…

 

***

Sokka couldn’t stop staring at Zuko. He knew that this was silly, that he really should be paying attention to his own wedding, but with Zuko looking at him like that… there was something undeniably hungry in his eyes, and it made Sokka’s mouth go dry. Zuko looked fantastic in his Water Tribe clothes, the blue doing amazing things for his pale complexion and dark hair. Maybe it was that he was more used to it now, but it also seemed to Sokka that his scar was softer in the afternoon light of the garden. He sort of wanted to touch it. He sort of wanted to lick it.

 _Whoa_  he shook himself, trying to remember that he was in front of hundreds of people. _And also, I don’t know, in the middle of *_ **your wedding** _!_  he smacked himself internally.

“We bind you together as one,” Fire Lord Iroh intoned, and Sokka very nearly jumped as a thin rope of fire snaked across the back of his hand. He looked up at Zuko, fear probably apparent in his face, but Zuko was smiling. Sokka stared at him in blatant astonishment. He was actually _smiling_. Sokka was bowled over… the expression completely transformed Zuko’s face. It lit him up, and he finally looked like an 18 year old boy.

Then he recalled that there was _fire_  on his _hands_. He looked back down as Iroh took hold of his wrist in one hand and Zuko’s in the other, pressing their palms together. The fire bent and twisted around their entwined hands, licking along their skin without burning them.

Sokka gawked up at Zuko, whose smile was spreading as he watched Sokka’s growing wonder.

“Iroh is one of the best benders in the world,” he whispered. “He knows what he’s doing…”

Sokka nodded mutely. Their hands were enmeshed in an intricate web of flame, so tightly bound that they truly did feel like one. He could no longer distinguish where he ended and Zuko began.

Katara stepped up next to him, bending her little ball of water again. “We bind you together as one,” she called, and her water split into thousands of threads. This time Sokka and Zuko’s hands came together with no prompting, the two searching each other out without conscious thought. The threads wove their way around their hands and froze as they fell into place so that they were unable to separate without disrupting the flow of the bending.

Zuko looked up into Sokka’s face and he saw that his own awe was now mirrored there. He smiled back without even thinking, and whispered, “Katara’s one of the best benders in the world, too.”

Zuko let out a small, chuffing laugh. “I can see that,” he smiled.

“You are one,” Iroh called.

“Is that all?” Sokka asked, surprised.

Zuko leaned towards him, keeping his voice very low. “It’s a test, Sokka.”

“What do you mean?” Sokka asked, frowning. He hadn’t signed up for any tests.

“If we had pulled away from the binding or hesitated at all we would have been burned. Instead we accepted Agni and each other, and so we’re bound.”

“Oh,” Sokka said, nonplussed.

Iroh turned to face the guests, “Rise to meet Fire Prince Zuko and his husband, the Honorable Southern Water Tribesman Sokka.” There was the thunderous sound of hundreds of pairs of feet coming into contact with the earth as the crowd heaved to its feet as one.

“You may kiss your husband,” Iroh said joyfully, raising his arms into the air.

The crowd burst into applause, stamping their feet and hooting in encouragement.

“Here goes nothing,” Sokka said, and he leaned forward. He had a second to see the anxiety flaring in Zuko’s face, but he ignored it, closing his eyes as he plunged forward.

Zuko’s lips were soft and very, very warm. They didn’t respond to his immediately, but he shifted a little and twisted his head into a better angle, pushing up onto tiptoes to reach. Zuko’s hand came up to brush the back of his neck, and it was trembling as it sunk into his hair, pulling him closer. Zuko seemed to come alive under his hands all at once, his mouth opening on a sigh so that Sokka could kiss him properly. His blood was rushing in his ears, his brain unable to compute anything past how _hot_  Zuko’s mouth was, and how good his fingers felt as they gently rubbed at the base of his skull.

“Em,” Iroh coughed delicately into his hand, and they broke apart. The noise of the crowd crashed back down onto his ears and he blinked around at them in confusion. _Oh yeah_. He looked at Zuko, but he was staring down at the ground, his face very pink. His lower lip looked swollen and slick, and his tongue flicked out to swipe along it. _Oh shit_.

Realizing that his hands were completely free of both ice and fire, he took hold of Zuko’s once more and they began the long walk back to the palace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: Come tell me what to write on [tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/) Or send me anonymous cranky messages. Whatever floats your proverbial boat.


	8. The Wedding: Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bonus since the last one was super short. We're almost to the porn! I'm super impressed by the patience ;-) And I promise, this is the last time I'll tease you so mercilessly. 
> 
> Sidenote: does anyone else miss Toph? I totally miss Toph right now.

“Don’t you want to dance any more?” Aang poked Sokka in the ribs.

“No,” Sokka said, groaning. “If I never have to dance again I’ll be the happiest man in the world.” He was lying spread eagled on his chair, arms thrown piteously out to his sides, feet dragging on the ground. He had danced with Zuko first (who turned out to be an exceptional dancer, _go figure_ ), then with Zuko’s mom, then with Gran Gran, then with Katara, then… he couldn’t keep track after that. He was tired and his feet hurt and he _would not_  suffer Aang’s judgment, goddammit. 

“Oh come on, Sokka, it’s your _wedding_!” he wheedled, nudging him more firmly. “Why won’t you dance with me?”

“Aang,” Sokka swatted at him ineffectually. “I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”

“Fi-ine,” Aang sighed. “Katara, will _you_  dance with me again?”

“Of course, sweetie,” she said, setting down a glass next to Sokka’s chair. She had just materialized out of the crowd now filling the ballroom, and Sokka was thrilled to see she had brought both food (meat!) and alcohol (alcohol!!!).  Aang did one of his weird levitation-y tricks out of sheer delight, and even this small display of energy made Sokka fling himself more firmly back into his chair with a moan.

“Leave poor Sokka alone, he’s had a day,” Katara said. Sokka looked up to thank her, but she was rolling her eyes at him as she reached to take Aang’s hand.

“Hey!” Sokka protested. “I _have_  had a day, missie!”

“Sure, sure,” Katara waved at him dismissively. “Just don’t get too drunk, I’m sure you’ll need to be sober for your performance later.” She and Aang disappeared into the crowd, laughing.

“Performance?” Sokka said, sputtering around the glass of wine he’d just downed. “Katara, WHAT PERFORMANCE?!”

“Already having performance anxiety, Snoozles?” Toph dropped into the seat next to him, kicking her legs up onto the table. “God, I love weddings,” she sighed happily. “So many desperate young men and women wondering why it isn’t their special day.”

“Why is that exciting for you?” Sokka asked, distracted.

“I get to point and laugh, of course,” Toph said. “And then later maybe I’ll get to _perform_  for one. Not that I ever get nervous.” She chortled.

“Wait a minute,” Sokka said. He hadn’t eaten much, and the wine already had his brain buzzing. “That’s what they meant?! I have never underperformed in my life! Those fuckers—“

“Not talking about us, are you?” a snide voice cut across him.

He looked up, squinting, into the backlit face of a young woman. She was flanked on either side by two more girls, neither of which looked terribly interested in the proceedings.

“Uh…” Sokka said, sitting up. “Do I know you?”

“We haven’t been formally introduced,” the girl leaned forward, extending a red-taloned hand. “So rude of Zuzu to neglect that connection, but then…” she sighed theatrically. “He’s never been eager to show me off, has he? I can’t imagine why.”

“Azula,” Sokka said, managing to finally pull all the pieces together.

“The one and only,” she smiled viciously at him, then turned to gesture to the girls behind her. “My friends, Mai and Ty Lee.”

“Rrriight…” Sokka said. He was feeling distinctly uncomfortable right now. He had no idea how to handle this particular interaction considering that he’d heard the Fire Princess was a lunatic. Maybe they’d let her out for good behavior? Or maybe she was out just to attend her brother’s wedding?

“Oooo, he’s cute!” the girl on the right popped her head around Azula’s shoulder, her long hair whipping around behind her. “Oh my gosh, I wouldn’t mind showing him some of my bendiest moves.” She was pretty in a big eyed way, but her smile was just a little too manic for his liking.

“Um, thanks?” Sokka said.

“I don’t know, he seems a bit slow to me,” drawled the other one. She was taller and very fair, and she surveyed Sokka with bored eyes. So this one was Mai.

“Well hi there,” Toph had slid along behind Sokka and was now sidling up to Ty Lee, whose attention was diverted.

“Hello yourself,” she giggled, batting her eyelashes at Toph. The gesture was obviously lost on her, but something in her voice must have tipped her off, because she looped an arm around Ty Lee’s waist and leaned up to whisper something into her ear. They both began to laugh, and Ty Lee slid an arm around Toph, too. “We’re going to dance,” she declared with a little wave. “Toodles!”

“Bimbo,” Azula said, glaring at their retreating backs. Then her gaze snapped back to Sokka. “So how are you enjoying my brother so far, Tribesman?”

Sokka was stumped. He hadn’t really seen that much of Zuko, and most that time had been spent either sort of fighting with him, or trying to get his desire to make out with him in inappropriate situations under control.

“It’s been good?” he ventured.

“Mmmm…” Azula hummed doubtfully. “So no special connection? No fireworks?”

“I don’t really—“

“See Mai, nothing to worry about,” Azula said spitefully, turning on her heel. She seized Mai by the elbow and towed her away with her. The other girl didn’t put up a fight, but she did turn to look over her shoulder at Sokka. Her gaze was cold and piercing, not intense enough to be called malicious, but with a definitely calculating air.

Sokka shook himself. That had to have been the weirdest ten minutes of this entire day. He looked through the crowd, wondering where Toph and Ty Lee had gone, but quickly gave up. He had meat to vanquish.

 

***

“Why is Azula here?” Zuko sunk his face into his hands, wishing he was anywhere but at this celebration. Parties were really not his thing.

“She is your sister, nephew. I have the assurance of both of her friends that they will keep the closest eye on her during the festivities.”

Zuko glared balefully at his uncle, then out at the dance floor.

“Yeah, seems like that’s going well,” he jerked his head towards the dancers, where Ty Lee and a small Earth Nation girl were engaging in behavior that could only be loosely described as dancing.

“Ah, this is why two of them were necessarily,” Iroh said, eying the girls dubiously.

“Yeah, well now you’ve left her alone with Mai,” Zuko snorted. “Obviously the pair of people most likely to want my wedding party to go well. Why didn’t you just invite Jet and Ozai and make it a nice quartet of crazy?”

“Prince Zuko,” Iroh clucked, “you must have more faith than that. People will surprise you.”

“Not Azula,” Zuko said, shaking his head. “I don’t know who’s more upset Mai and I broke up: her or Mai.”

“Probably Azula,” Iroh admitted. “She liked the control she perceived she had over your happiness.”

“Yeah, well Mai and I didn’t exactly make a happy couple,” Zuko said, tossing back his glass of wine.

“Speaking of the happy couple, where is your husband?” Iroh asked, peering through the multitude of people. Zuko recoiled a little at the word, then immediately chastised himself. He had to get used to that sometime. Sokka _was_  his husband now.

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I think I saw him with the Avatar a while ago.”

“You should go find him,” Iroh said. “This is a day for both of you to bond after all.”

“Fine,” Zuko stood up and set his glass on the table behind him.

“Meanwhile, I believe I saw a lovely woman standing just over there,” Iroh pointed into the throng. “I should like to ask her to dance.”

Shaking off the disturbing idea of Iroh finding a lady friend, Zuko stood and made his way across the ballroom, searching for Sokka. He wasn’t reticent to find him because he was opposed to spending an evening with him. It was more that now they were officially married, it was all so real. They had responsibilities to each other and their nations now. He’d been able to partially explain away Sokka’s previous reluctance as nerves, as resistance to the idea of an arranged marriage, but now that it was done… He was more scared than ever that Sokka was actually upset about having to marry _him_.

It would be a fine lookout for him, he supposed, if he ended up into Sokka while Sokka couldn’t stand to be near him. He knew he wasn’t any good at talking to people, he knew he struggled with reading them. But if he was reading Sokka wrong, he could easily make an even bigger ass out of himself. As it was, he wasn’t sure how much of Sokka’s interactions with him had been out of obligation and how much out of actual desire to get to know him. It was impossible to tell.

“There you are,” he’d finally found Sokka by the simple process of tripping over his legs. He caught himself before he ended up in his lap, but only barely.

“Why hello!” Sokka said, his voice a bit slurred. “Enjoying the party?”

“Um, not really,” Zuko said truthfully. “I don’t like them much.”

“Oh no!” Sokka said. “Have some wine! It’s excellent!” He reached down to retrieve the bottle on the floor next to his chair, but slid out of it and onto the floor instead. Zuko bent down to help him up, a little bit horrified that Sokka was so distraught by their marriage that he had to get raging drunk at the reception. However, rather than allowing himself to be hauled to his feet, Sokka dragged Zuko to the floor with him.

“Shhhh…” he pressed a finger to his lips and pulled up the edge of the tablecloth. He scooted himself along the smooth marble floor easily on his silk robes and was soon entirely underneath the table. “Come on, Jerkbender!” he waved at Zuko to join him. “Don’t have all night, a persons gon notice us.”

Zuko shook his head and grabbed the bottle as he ducked under the tablecloth. It dropped down behind him, bathing the area under the table in soft silver light.

“What the hell did you call me?” he asked. He uncorked the bottle and took a swig directly from it. It wasn’t like they had any glasses handy.

“Thas right!” Sokka crowed. “Princey can drink too!”

“Yeah, I can,” Zuko said. “But I think you’ve had enough.” He held the bottle out of Sokka’s reach.

“Aw,” Sokka said dolefully. “You’re gonna make me face the fire peoples sober?”

“Yes,” Zuko said, but he couldn’t help smiling a little at the pitiful figure of Sokka, lying on the ground bonelessly.

“Thas jus mean,” he said, poking Zuko in the chest with his finger.

“You’ll get over it,” he smirked, catching hold of Sokka’s hand as it honed back in for another prod.

“Are you sure?” Sokka lurched up, weaving his fingers with Zuko’s for better leverage. He was very close in the cramped underside of the table, his face suddenly serious. His eyes dropped to Zuko’s mouth, and one of his fingers darted up to run lightly across Zuko’s lower lip.

Zuko thought his head might explode. He’d been drunk before, he knew how much it lowered inhibitions. This meant nothing; Sokka probably wasn’t aware of the effect he was having on him.

Sokka leaned in…

“ZUKO?!” his mother’s voice called from right above them.

“Fuck,” he swore, yanking back and nearly hitting his head on the table. He poked his head out from under the tablecloth and looked up into her irate face.

“What on earth are you doing under there?” she asked, her irritation giving way to puzzlement.

“Dropped something,” he mumbled, climbing out from underneath awkwardly. It didn’t help that Sokka had chosen that moment to run a hand up under his tunic. _What the hell is he trying to do, kill me?_  he cursed to himself.

“Well I need you, Azula just set the rest of the cake on fire,” she said, and began to hurry towards the smoke.

“And this is why we can’t include Azula in nice things,” he grumbled.

 

***

 

Sokka came to himself under a table. He wasn’t entirely sure how he’d come to be there, only that everything had stopped spinning now and he felt a little more sober. Also, a little bit ashamed at having fallen asleep under a table at his own wedding. That kind of nonsense was usually reserved for his crazy Uncle Kiyo.

Grunting crankily to himself, he crawled out from under the tablecloth and heaved himself into a chair.

“Really, Sokka?” Katara said disapprovingly.

In his haste to vacate the underside of the table, he’d failed to realize that Katara and Aang were sitting around it.

“Really,” he said, scratching his head. “Got any water?”

“Of course,” she handed him a glass and glared at him reprovingly. “What were you two doing under there?”

“Two?” he felt a jolt of panic go through him. He hadn’t hooked up with a random Fire Nation citizen under the table at his wedding reception, had he?

“Yeah, Zuko’s crazy sister set the cake on fire and I just saw him climb out from under this table, like, half an hour ago,” Aang piped up. “It was awesome,” he said, “the cake explosion,” he clarified at a confused look from Sokka. “It was like _foom_ ,” he mimed an explosion with his arms. “Cake EVERYWHERE.”

“Cool…” Sokka said, guzzling the water. He felt much better now.

“So what were you doing under there?” Katara asked shrewdly.

“Nothing, I swear!” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. _I wish I knew_.

“Save it for the Bedding,” Aang said wisely, his ears belying his calm tone by going a little bit pink. “It doesn’t count if it doesn’t happen after that.” He chuckled nervously.

Sokka choked on his water, “Um, excuse me? The Bedding?”

“Well, it is a Fire Nation wedding,” Aang said, nodding seriously, ears turning an even deeper red. “So once the crowd is drunk enough, you should probably expect…”

But at that moment Sokka realized exactly what Aang was acting so uncomfortable about. A horde of drunken Fire nationals was swarming towards him, Zuko, looking exhaustedly resigned, splayed out in his wedding clothes atop them. They were carrying him, jostling for position underneath him, and he grimaced as he jounced up and down over their heads.

“It is Fire Nation tradition to convey the married couple to their bedroom to end the night’s festivities,” Iroh said as the crowd reached them. Sokka had barely a second to digest this horrible information before he was swept up by dozens of grasping hands. He was passed like a sack of grain backwards until he was riding beside Zuko, who turned to him with a sigh that made the locks of hair escaping his topknot flutter.

“Sorry about this,” he grumbled, jerking his head at the crowd. “At least my room isn’t far.”

Sokka nodded, his teeth clacking painfully together as they began to move through the ballroom’s wide doors and out into the palace.

Zuko said something else, but Sokka could no longer hear him. He looked at him questioningly… his face was the reddest Sokka had ever seen it. But instead of repeating whatever it was Zuko shook his head, fixing his eyes determinedly ahead.

And then they were being borne away on the backs of the hollering crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who am I kidding? This is NOT the last time I'll torture you. But you know what's coming up next, so take heart!
> 
> Update: Please prompt me on [tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/), I'm sad and alone.


	9. The Wedding Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go… As promised: PORN FOR ALL!!!
> 
> *throws chapter into the air and sprints away screaming*

“I’m sorry no one warned you,” Zuko said, grateful to have his bedroom door between themselves and his drunken wedding guests. They were still banging and shouting out in the hallway, yelling out slurred suggestions for their evening. He could only hope that the guards would drive them away soon. He was sure he never wanted to hear the Chancellor of Education telling him to, “Bend him over good!” ever again in his life. He could only hope that he was too drunk to remember having said it or else their future meetings would be intolerably awkward.

“That would have been nice,” Sokka said, striding away towards the fire. Zuko wasn’t sure how to read his tone, but the way his jaw was set suggested that he wasn’t happy.

“Umm…” Zuko didn’t know what to say. He walked over to join Sokka. “About earlier…”

“What happened?” Sokka asked. His brows were drawn down tight over his eyes. He looked annoyed, but not necessarily with Zuko; his eyes weren’t focused on his face at any rate.

“Under the table?” Zuko asked, surprised.

Sokka nodded curtly.

“Nothing!” Zuko said, folding his hands behind his back.

“Oh,” Sokka said. He returned to staring into the flames.

Zuko didn’t know what to do. This was so tense and uncomfortable, and he didn’t know how to broach the subject he needed so desperately to discuss with Sokka. They’d never had time to talk about this before now, and this really was the worst possible time to engage in it. He turned away and sat down on the foot of his bed, knotting his hands in his lap.

“Did you want something to have happened?” he asked instead.

“Under the table in the middle of the party would have been a bad idea,” he said.

Zuko didn’t know how to take that either. “Right,” he said slowly, fingers twisting.

“What are we doing here?” Sokka turned suddenly and walked over to him. He stopped in front of him, jaw clenching and unclenching.

“What do you mean? Like, in my bedroom right now?”

“Yes,” Sokka said, his tone angry. “What was that all about?”

“It’s a Fire Nation tradition,” Zuko explained.

“I’d gathered,” Sokka said acerbically.

Zuko’s temper was definitely starting to rise to match Sokka’s now. He didn’t know what he was supposed to have done: he’d apologized that no one had told Sokka beforehand, but what had he expected?! This wasn’t Zuko’s fault.

“You know, I don’t like this any better than you do,” Zuko glowered. It was true: he wasn’t a huge fan of the fact that everyone he knew in the world had just locked him in a room with his cranky Water Tribesman husband. With the intention that they fuck for the glory of their nations.

“Well that’s just great!” Sokka threw his hands up in frustration. “So what are we even doing here?” His hand rose unconsciously to worry at his engagement necklace. “Gods,” he muttered, “we’re fucking married.”

Zuko sneered, “Yes, Sokka, that’s what we’re doing here. Fulfilling our duty to our nations. And that includes…”

“What?” Sokka’s eyes flashed up to his, and Zuko’s breath caught. They were full of icy blue fire… he hadn’t ever thought he’d see such a searing look on a member of the water tribe.

“The wedding night,” Zuko whispered.

All of the fight seemed to go out of Sokka. He sank onto one of Zuko’s trunks, burying his face in his hands. Zuko watched him with a detached sort of gloom in the pit of his stomach. Was the reality of sleeping with him really so distasteful?

“This is the most awkward thing ever,” Sokka said. His voice was muffled by his hands, but his tone made the horrible feeling in Zuko’s stomach redouble. “I hate this.”

“I know,” Zuko said quietly.

Sokka looked up, his brow furrowing. Then a look of dawning horror crossed his face. He leapt up from the trunk and crossed the room to Zuko, taking his hands. Zuko was so surprised by the gesture that he let him.

“No,” Sokka said, looking him in the eye. “Nonono, that’s not what I meant. I don’t hate _you_. I don’t even _know_  you. So, I mean…” he dropped Zuko’s hands again, turning away, his hands clasped behind his head in frustration. “It’s not that, like, having sex with you is gonna be bad. It’s just,” he turned back around, his face pained, “there’s just _people_ , right? I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at them, you know?”

Zuko shook his head. He very much did not know.

“Ugh,” Sokka groaned. “I’m just super creeped out by the fact that everyone is out there expecting us to fuck tonight, ok? We just got married—a pair of COMPLETE strangers, by the way—and our fucking PARENTS are out in the hallway thinking we’re getting it on.”

Zuko blinked rapidly, trying to digest this. He had never really thought about it as an unnatural or unreasonable expectation. It was just what happened after a marriage took place. Maybe it wasn’t terribly pleasant for the newlyweds, but it was to be tolerated.

“Just, can’t we, I don’t know,” Sokka said, his voice wheedling, “take it slow or something?”

But Zuko was still stuck on another crucial point, “You wouldn’t mind sleeping with me?” he asked.

“What?” Sokka said. His anger had evaporated and he looked surprised. “Well, no, of course not. You’re really hot. But, like—“

He didn’t have chance to finish, because Zuko’s mouth was suddenly sealed over his. Zuko wasn’t really sure what made him do it…it was just that the idea that Sokka could actually _want_  him was so intoxicating that he wasn’t sure quite what else to do.

“Um,” Sokka pulled away a little, eyes wide. “Um, I—“ Zuko realized that he was holding Sokka be the upper arms, having grabbed him to better facilitate his kiss. They were barely touching otherwise, but he was very aware of the warm press of Sokka’s arms under his own palms.

“Oh shit,” he breathed, almost to himself. He stepped away, hastily letting go of Sokka. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Sokka said. “No, it’s ok! Really Zuko!” Because Zuko was turning away to hide his shame, to cover up the way his face was flushing and his eyes beginning to sting. What had he just done? He barely knew Sokka and here he was violating him right after he’d expressly told him he wanted to go slow!

A large hand descended on his shoulder, turning him gently. “It’s ok,” Sokka said. Zuko lifted his eyes to see that Sokka had closed his own. His face looked very open and vulnerable. “I’m here, all right? This is it. I was just surprised. But you can, you know…” He leaned forward suggestively, using his hand on Zuko’s shoulder to reel Zuko in closer.

Zuko wanted to ask for forgiveness, but instead he brushed his lips over Sokka’s again. It was gratifying to feel the way Sokka shuddered at the light contact. He reached up hesitantly, his fingers sliding easily into Sokka’s hair, dislodging the leather band holding it in place. He drew the wave hairpiece out and tossed it to the floor. Soft deep brown hair tumbled down to brush at his hands as he tilted Sokka’s face up to meet his. He licked at the seam of Sokka’s lips and his heart loosened as Sokka’s lips parted in response.

“Sokka,” he breathed, not wanting to stop kissing him, but needing to hear… “Are you sure?”

Sokka didn’t answer, and Zuko could hear his heartbeat thrumming in his ears as he waited. He opened his eyes to look at Sokka, their faces only a hairsbreadth from one another, their lips barely touching. They hung suspended like that while Sokka struggled with himself, his eyes tightly shut. Then he pressed closer to Zuko and kissed him.

Zuko relaxed. He couldn’t help it. He had wanted to hear overt confirmation from Sokka that this was what he wanted, but Sokka seemed determined to show him, not tell him.

Maybe that was enough for now. He could make this about their responsibilities, not themselves. He could do that. _Right?_

He broke away from Sokka, tugging him over to the bed. He sat down hesitantly on the edge, but before he could suggest any further action, Sokka was on top of him, parting his legs easily to either side so that he could slide into the cradle of Zuko’s body. He dipped his head down to kiss him again, one hand sliding around the back of his neck, the other pulling at the bottom edge of his tunic. Zuko gasped as Sokka’s warm palm finally reached under the fabric to make contact with his lower back, strong fingers spreading across his spine and gliding up. His tunic bunched under his arms and he impatiently fought with it, trying to free himself without having to stop kissing Sokka. His mouth made him dizzy, the long slow drag of his lips and tongue lighting his body up with desire. His own tongue licked into Sokka’s mouth and he made a small noise of surprised pleasure, letting Zuko take the lead.

Zuko reached up to latch his arms around Sokka’s neck, yanking him down onto the bed with him. His hands fumbled with the buckles on his belt, freeing them so that he could push the robe off of Sokka’s shoulders. It fell away with a soft _whoosh_  to the floor.

“Hold on,” Sokka said, tearing himself away from Zuko. Zuko didn’t want to stop. He gently raked his nails across Sokka’s bare back, his lips travelling down Sokka’s throat slowly. He planted an open mouthed kiss at the base of his neck, enjoying how Sokka shuddered at the contact. “Wait,” Sokka said feebly. Zuko pulled back, staring up at him. Sokka’s eyes were wide, his pupils blown huge in the half-light. He was so hard already that the sight only made him throb worse… he tried not to grind up against Sokka, whose body was still hanging just out of reach. “This would be better without…” he plucked at Zuko’s tunic, holding himself suspended over him with only one arm. Zuko ran a hand up that arm, feeling the tense cords of his muscles.

“Ok, yeah,” he breathed. He reluctantly let go of Sokka’s arm to wrestle himself free of the tunic. Then, just for good measure he shucked his pants off as well. He paused at the ties to Sokka’s trousers, though.

“Do it,” Sokka said quietly, not looking into his face. He focused instead on Zuko’s bare chest, reaching down to trace a finger over one of Zuko’s nipples. He trembled as he worked the ties open, gasping when Sokka’s mouth came down to lick at his nipple. He wrenched Sokka’s pants down, using his legs to kick them off. Then he had his hands on Sokka’s ass, and he pulled him down, slotted their hips together…

Sokka let out a guttural cry, and he knew his echoing yell was just as uninhibited. His cock was sliding against Sokka’s and he felt a thrill go through his body at the realization that Sokka was just as hard he was. _He does want me_  he thought, and the idea was shocking and exciting and he couldn’t help himself as his hips jerked up. Sokka moaned, his hand fisting in the bedding beside Zuko’s head. Zuko stared up at him, his own hands still gripping hard at his ass, keeping them pressed tight together.

“Zuko, I want…” Sokka grated out. His teeth were gritted together with something like anger, but that wasn’t it. He licked his lips, his eyes flicking to Zuko’s mouth hungrily. “Can I…?”

“What?” Zuko groaned, his hips swiveling. He needed more, but couldn’t stand to move, wasn’t sure what would happen if Sokka went further. He had the feeling that if this tension snapped he’d lose control completely.

“Suck you off?” Sokka asked, dipping his head shyly into the crook of Zuko’s neck.

“Oh gods yes,” Zuko whispered, his eyes wide and startled as he stared up past Sokka towards the hangings of his bed. This couldn’t be happening. There was no way that he, Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, was lying naked on this bed with his aching dick pressed flush against the impressively large cock of his new Water Tribesman husband. It just wasn’t possible. And the fact that the other man had just offered to blow him with a longing, pleading note of desperation in his voice was just too much. This was a dream.

“Good,” Sokka said, and he was sliding away, down Zuko’s body. Zuko had to stop himself from letting out a moan as Sokka’s dick left his own, replaced by the soft brush of Sokka’s abs and chest as he moved lower. Then a large hand descended on his thigh, spreading it to the side, and he looked down to see Sokka kneeling low between his legs, staring up at him in wonder.

“Wha…?” he began, but Sokka reached up to stripe a hot lick across his own palm, and then his hand was suddenly on his cock. He bowed up from the bed, totally unprepared for the feeling of Sokka’s hand, warm and slick, as it stroked up his shaft. Sokka tugged up and down once, twice, then let go. Zuko made a noise of dismay that quickly faded into a moan. Sokka’s mouth was hot and wet and felt so good as he licked once from base to tip, lathing his tongue over the head of Zuko’s cock. Then he sunk down, taking Zuko all the way in, and Zuko wondered hazily whether Hakoda’s note had been true, about whether he really _had_  never done this before. Zuko held his hips still, not wanting to hurt him, but he couldn’t help the way his hands knotted in Sokka’s hair as Sokka’s head began to move. Zuko could barely watch, couldn’t even really breathe at the way Sokka’s tongue was stroking the underside of his dick, the way he was opening his throat to take him deeper, to suck him all the way in until…

He could feel control slipping, feel the torches around the walls flaring, their flames whipped upward by the intensity of his emotions. Sokka’s fingers brushed deliberately down, stroking over his base, over his balls, pressing firmly just below, and he noticed dimly that Sokka’s other hand was also working himself, jerking back and forth furiously. Oh god, Sokka was getting off on this, on doing this to him, on making him come apart…

He came suddenly and forcefully, his hips thrusting up into Sokka’s mouth. Sokka sputtered a little, pulling back so that the whole thing became even messier, cum spilling onto his abs and down Sokka’s chin. He was mesmerized by the sight, and even more so by the choked off groan Sokka made as he swallowed, his hand still moving underneath himself. Zuko followed the motion, watching Sokka’s dick disappear and reappear from between his fingers, and he wished _he_  were doing that, wished _he_  was the one wringing those noises from Sokka. And then Sokka was coming too, his face a mask of pleasure as he tipped over onto his side, his head falling heavily onto Zuko’s chest.

“Shit,” he breathed. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, blurry as they sought out Zuko’s face. He knew he must look just as wrecked, but right now the sight of Sokka’s swollen red lips, the wet gleam of them in the near darkness, the ragged sound of Sokka’s breath coming in fits from beside him… it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Shit,” he agreed, carding his fingers through Sokka’s hair. He didn’t care that the bed was disgusting, he didn’t care that both he and Sokka were covered in the drying aftermath of their orgasms, he didn’t give a single flying fuck about _anything_  right then. Sokka was lying in his arms staring up at him like he was the best thing he’d ever seen, and right then… Right then he felt like he might actually deserve it.

And that _was_  the best thing ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how we feelin right about now? Ready for more? Ready for some drama? I hope so!
> 
> Update: Look! It's [tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/) Come talk to me!


	10. Gossip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude for an exploration of Zuko and Sokka's shitty communication skills. But then more porn… then more feelings… then more porn… there may be a pattern here.

Sokka rolled over in Zuko’s huge bed, stretching luxuriously. He didn’t open his eyes right away, letting his hands sweep out to his left, searching for Zuko’s body. He wanted to cuddle, dammit.

He opened his eyes, confused when his hands found only rumpled sheets. Zuko was gone.

He sat up, looking around the room. It was completely deserted, the hangings fluttering in a cool breeze that drifted through the chamber. All the torches had been extinguished in the night, and the weak morning light was watery and comfortless.

He shivered, pulling the blankets up around his bare chest. He wished he wasn’t upset by Zuko’s absence, but he was. Last night had felt so good… he had hardly expected to feel everything that he had, to _want_  Zuko that much. It had been amazing and freeing and insane and now… now it didn’t feel real. It felt like a dream, like something that had happened to someone else.

Maybe what Zuko had said last night was true after all. For him it had been about fulfilling their obligations. That was all. Sokka collapsed back onto the pillows, arms outstretched to feel the indentation where Zuko’s body had lain not so long ago. They’d had sex— _We even_ **snuggled** _afterward!_ —and then Zuko had left him alone. He’d hoped that last night had meant more than that. He’d thought that he’d felt something bigger happening around them as they kissed and touched and lay tangled together for hours afterward. Apparently he was wrong.

He got up and dressed, yanking his clothes from where they’d been strewn across Zuko’s floor. He shivered again in the morning air, remembering the feeling of Zuko’s hands ghosting up under his clothes to shuck them from his body. Zuko had been so warm (were all firebenders literally hot?), and the press of their bodies had driven away the cold of the night. Now he noted that the doors to Zuko’s balcony had been left open the entire time. Funny how he hadn’t even noticed last night.

He paused to look out at the gardens, thinking that maybe he’d take a walk there later. The remnants of the wedding ceremony had been cleared away, the grass just as smooth and flawless as if hundreds of feet hadn’t been trampling it all afternoon. He stared out at the hedge maze, the meandering paths and tinkling fountains, not really seeing them. He had the rest of his life to spend wandering the palace grounds he supposed. Oddly, the thought wasn’t cheering.

Instead of going out onto the balcony he walked to Zuko’s desk. There were some papers strewn across it and a few books stacked neatly in the corner. He picked one up… it was a volume of Fire Nation folk tales. He smiled at it for a moment, wondering if this was the kind of thing Zuko always liked to read. Then his smile faded: he had to remember that he was mad at Zuko right now. He’d fucked him and left without so much as a note. That was the kind of bullshit he expected from a one-night stand, not the consummation of their marriage. He’d thought they’d be closeted in bed all day, ordering food in and talking about… _I don’t know, talking about girlie feelings shit or something. God, am I this fucking sensitive?!_  He shook his head at himself. Reading wasn’t exactly the manliest pursuit to drive away the stupid insecurities barraging his mind, but right now he wanted to escape. He was feeling too crushed by the weight of his own disappointment.

He tucked the book under his arm (after all, it would be good to get to know something about Fire Nation culture while he was here) and left the room, closing the door behind him.

He looked both ways down the hallway. Without a guide he would probably get hopelessly lost, but the idea sort of appealed to him. Maybe that way he would have an excuse for not finding Zuko.

He chose right and turned, striding down the corridor until he couldn’t see Zuko’s door any more. Then he chose a hallway at random and turned again, soon becoming thoroughly lost. All of the halls looked much the same, carpeted or tiled in deep red with tall arching columns interspersed at intervals. Many had niches set between them to showcase delicate vases, intricate tapestries, or small cushioned benches.

He was getting bored, but he had just passed a window showing a spectacular view of the gardens, so at least he knew what side of the palace he was on. He ducked back around a column and walked over to the window, nudging its long brocaded drapery aside. There was a window seat hidden behind it, and he settled himself onto it, cracking the book open.

The light lengthened and grew brighter as he sat and read, actually beginning to enjoy the stories. They weren’t that different from the ones Gran Gran had told him and Katara when they were kids, except that the glaciers were replaced with volcanoes and the natural disasters were a little more on the order of ravaging forest fires than ice avalanches.

He was just wondering how much time had elapsed since he’d sat down (and whether lunch would be happening soon) when there was the sound of footsteps from the other side of the drapes. He froze.

The people walking along were talking, and the corridor’s tiles magnified their voices so that he could hear them. As they drew nearer it became clear that they were a pair of gossiping maids. He relaxed, but then perked up when he recognized his name.

“Prince Sokka?” one of the maids was saying. “I don’t think so. His father is just the chief.”

“Hmmm…” the other one agreed. “It was a beautiful wedding. Do you think they’ll get along all right, though? My sister’s been married three times and she _chose_  each of the bastards.”

“It seems to me like they’re getting on just fine,” the first maid said slyly. “I just changed the sheets,” she giggled, “And _someone_  definitely got lucky in the prince’s bed last night.”

“Can you blame him? The Water Tribe peasant is so beautiful,” the second one sighed. “I’ve never seen anyone like him… his skin… those _eyes_. It’s enough to turn even the prince’s head.”

“They’ve got plenty of time for the Southern charm to wear off,” the first maid laughed. “He’ll get sick of the pretty tan eventually, and then the Fire Lord will wish he’d married him to a Fire Nation girl instead.”

“No!” the second maid scoffed. “If I had a Water Tribesman for my very own plaything, I’d never get tired of him. I’ve heard that _their_  kind…”

They were moving off down the hall now, their gossip fading from Sokka’s hearing. He felt sick. He’d also been right last night. Everyone knew, and from the sound of it they didn’t judge Zuko for his involvement with him, but Sokka? Something in the first maid’s tone of voice had been so demeaning, like she would expect nothing better of a Water Tribe “savage” than to jump their defenseless young prince, never mind that they’d gotten married first. _Heh, they think Zuko is innocent?!_  his cheeks heated as he remembered the dark look in Zuko’s eyes the night before. And a Water Tribe _plaything_?!

He was fuming as he leapt from the bench, forgetting the book in his haste. He stormed off the way the maids had come, turning blindly until he was suddenly dazzled by glaring late-morning sunlight. He blinked and raised his arm to shield his eyes. He had accidentally made his way into the garden after all. He forged forward, finding a gap in the maze’s hedge and plunging through it. He wanted to get lost. He wanted to never be found by these people who thought he wasn’t anything more than a sex toy for stupid _Zuko_. Why hadn’t he realized this would happen before now? Why had his dad sent him here, knowing he’d face this?

He sank down in the center of the maze to stew. _Where do I go from here?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it actually legitimately MAKES MY DAY when I get comments and feedback from you guys. So thanks a bajillion for all the love and keep it up! I have to get my external validation from somewhere! ;-)
> 
> Update: I'm running out of cute/irritating ways to plug my [tumblr.](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/) Which makes sense considering I am not very cute, but is worrisome since I am only halfway through this story...


	11. The Fight

Zuko was so restless that morning that the moment the sun had risen, he sprang out of bed like he’d been bit in the ass by a scorpion-bee. He knew that when he felt this way the only thing to do was practice his bending, but Sokka looked so peaceful lying in his bed that he couldn’t bear to wake him up by performing his morning forms on the balcony like usual.

So instead he dressed in the early morning darkness and slipped out of the room as quietly as he could.

He actually hummed to himself as he strode down the hall towards the gardens, smiling to himself and waving at the guards and servants he passed. They all stared at him in astonishment, as though wishing them a good morning was entirely out of character. He frowned a little and the maid nearest him relaxed visibly, hoisting her basket of laundry higher on her hip as she sped past him. He stared after her, rather confused, then shook it off. Everyone else was just in a weird mood this morning.

He stepped out onto the lawn, pausing to take in the beautiful day. The sun was just starting to send its soft rays over the distant horizon, but already the birds were rustling in the trees and twittering out their slightly discordant music. The flowers were reopening to greet the sun, the breeze was whistling through the grass, and the sound of the pond lapping at its banks all combined to settle a feeling of contentment deep inside of his chest.

He started off around the perimeter of the maze, searching for his favorite gap in the hedges. He found it and turned inside, slowly making his way closer to the center. He stopped in a large gap where four paths met, striking the pose of his first form in the middle of the crossroads. Soon he was flowing through the moves sinuously, the fire singing in his veins, and he felt more alive, more _connected_  than he could remember ever feeling before today. He was executing the forms perfectly on the first try every time, and a slow smile spread across his face as he finished with the last one. He had a feeling he knew why he was in such a good mood this morning… so it wasn’t just a myth that sex put people in a better mood.

 _Good to know_  he thought.

He was feeling warm and happy as he traipsed further into the labyrinth. There was a pond in the center, just around one of the corners, and he suddenly felt the desire to go sit by it for a little while and bask in the sunlight. He was just thinking that it was only a few more turns away when he stopped suddenly. Poking out of one of the flowerbeds that littered the maze was a tuft of small blue flowers. He leaned down to examine then, remembering something he’d learned a long time ago. Although the summers on South Pole were very brief, a few plants did manage to grow on the northernmost edges of the land, and among them…

“Ice blossoms,” he whispered. They were a similar color to Sokka’s eyes, the shade just a little too pale and cold to really match. Still, they reminded him of Sokka, and of last night, and so he scooped them up into his hands. He sniffed them gingerly, and it was funny how the smell of them evoked Sokka as well: something about their scent made him think of freshly fallen snow.

Still holding the flowers in one hand he turned another corner and suddenly there he was, as though conjured by Zuko’s thoughts alone, sitting hunched over on a low stone bench by the side of the gravel path.

“Sokka!” he said happily, feeling a grin split his face as he neared him. He reached out without thinking, raking his fingers through the ends of Sokka’s hair, brushing down the shell of his ear to smooth his palm across his collarbone. “I found these in the garden… ice blossoms, like the ones that I’ve heard grow in the South Pole in the summer.”

He thrust his hand out, and Sokka took the stems from him slowly. He stared down at them, not looking at Zuko. He noticed that his shoulders were tense and he reached up to rub at the hard muscles.  He smirked a little as his fingers danced along Sokka’s skin. He even dared to put a bit of suggestion into his voice as he sidled closer, fingers rubbing languorously, “You ok from last night? Do you want me to—“

Sokka looked up at him, and his bubble burst immediately. There was an inexplicably wounded and angry expression on Sokka’s face. He knocked Zuko’s hand aside roughly and stood in a graceful surge, seeming to tower over Zuko. He radiated an icy fury that was completely out of place on his usually animated face. What was wrong? What had he done now? Last night had been so wonderful… he’d thought… he’d thought maybe…

“I’m not your _plaything_ , Zuko,” he spat, face contorted with implacable rage, “And I’m not a girl.” He threw the flowers to the ground and stormed away, his back very straight, even his ponytail bristling with anger.

Zuko stared down at the flowers, their delicate blue petals crushed and broken on the gravel path. He bent down without thinking and scooped them into his hands, cradling them like a hurt animal. He suddenly remembered feeding the turtle-ducks in the pond not so far from here with his mother as a child and how one day he had found an egg lying abandoned by the side of the pond. He had carried it excitedly to Ursa and then spent every day nursing it, wrapping it in warm cloths and heating it gently with his bending. All the while he had dreamed of his very own tame turtle-duck pet. But the egg had never hatched, and Ozai had found it and thrown it away, horrified that his son had wasted so much time caring for something so useless.

His eyes prickled hotly and a great upwelling of resentment and humiliation crashed over him, choking him. He flung the flowers into the bushes, ignoring the twinge of guilt he felt, and ran away in the opposite direction as Sokka, kicking up gravel as he went.

What had he been thinking? Did he really assume that just because Sokka had fucked him last night they were going to live happily ever after? _Weak_  he cursed himself. _Naïve. That isn’t how this works. He was doing what he thought he had to do. He doesn’t_ **want** _you. How could he?_

He collapsed by the pond, barely able to contain the fire raging inside of him. He didn’t want to hurt the plants, didn’t want to scare off the animals living in the pond, but he wanted so badly to burn something, to destroy something. Maybe that would help chase away some of the shame he felt at Sokka’s rejection.

Instead he screamed, his head thrown back, fire pouring out of his throat in great waves that shot straight up into the sky like a beacon. It fought its way out of him, searing up the inside of his throat until he was completely devoid of anything but the fire.

“Zuko!” Iroh’s voice came suddenly from behind him, and there was alarm and fear in it. “What are you doing?!”

Zuko crumpled backward onto the grass, his throat raw and his breath sawing out of his chest. His uncle appeared over him, bending down to thumb at his eyelids worriedly.

“You should never bend so uncontrollably, nephew,” he said, but his words had no bite in them. “I was frightened you would hurt yourself.”

“Don’t you have meetings to attend to, Fire Lord?” Zuko said. His voice was even raspier than usual now.

“Nothing is more important than family,” Iroh shook his head gravely. “I wanted to check and see how you were feeling the morning after your wedding. To find you like this does not bode well, however.”

“I’m fine,” he said, pushing himself up from the ground. The words rang false even in his own ears.

Iroh tutted, “Bending like that only occurs when a person is decidedly _not_  fine. What is troubling you so?”

“Sokka,” Zuko admitted. “He’s mad at me, but I didn’t do anything! I don’t know what happened!”

“Did something occur last night?” Iroh asked.

“I mean, nothing, uh, besides, well,” Zuko blushed, scandalized to be having this conversation with Iroh, “you know, what was _supposed_  to happen. But that was good! It was amazing, actually.” He ducked his head to avoid Iroh’s gaze.

“I see,” Iroh said, obviously trying to contain a chuckle. Really, how could he be so flippant about this? “And this morning…?”

“I woke up first and I left to go practice my bending so I wouldn’t wake him up,” he explained. “And I came out to the garden to run through my forms instead, and I saw some ice-blossoms that made me think of him,” he blushed deeper at admitting to that fool notion, “and then I ran into him in the garden and gave them to him. And he shouted at me that he wasn’t my ‘plaything’ and that he wasn’t a girl, and he… he left.” Zuko’s head drooped to his chest. It was almost worse having to relive the encounter for Iroh.

“Ah, there is the problem,” Iroh said knowingly. “Poor Sokka is not a firebender. He does not understand the compulsion to rise with the sun. Undoubtedly he woke up alone and believed you did not feel as deeply about your night together as he did. When you brought him the flowers he did not see them as a gift, but as a mockery. He is acting like a spurned lover because he feels that he is one. And,” Iroh’s face darkened slightly, “I have already had to put out several small fires—metaphorically, I assure you—over the maids gossiping in the hallways. Some speculations do not accord the Fire Lord’s family the proper respect. And Sokka is now our family.”

Zuko blinked up at Iroh, “He thinks I don’t care?”

“It would appear so,” Iroh said gently. “He is upset that you did not want to spend the morning after your wedding night together. In many places that day is an almost sacred time of bonding for the newlyweds.”

“So I fucked up,” Zuko said dejectedly.

“You are not the only one to blame,” Iroh assured him. “Sokka jumped to conclusions and behaved rashly. I believe that to be a part of his nature. But if I am right about other characteristics both you and he share, I believe he must now be feeling some regret over his actions.”

“Should I go find him?” Zuko asked, turning his panicked eyes to Iroh. He needed to fix this.

“I think that would be wise,” Iroh nodded.

“Ok,” Zuko said, standing. He wracked his brains for a few moments. Where would _he_  go if he needed to work out his anger?

He set a course for the training room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: I exist on [tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	12. Sparring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rough sex is coming… You have been warned!
> 
> On a slightly unrelated note: I'm sorry that this one took longer than usual to post. I've had some family stuff going on the last few days that I had to deal with before I could get back to writing.

Sokka had felt ashamed almost the second he’d left Zuko standing there staring down at the crumpled flowers. And sure enough, in his haste to run away from his hurt feelings, he had gotten really and truly lost. Again.

He stopped at a forked path, trying to think how he had ended up here, but in the haze of his anger he hadn’t made any conscious decisions about which way to turn, and now he couldn’t remember.

He ended up wandering aimlessly until he came to a gap in the hedge, and he breathed a little easier once he’d stepped through it and back out onto the grounds. He was facing a different side of the palace than before, with the komodo-rhino stables off to his left and the door to the armory slightly ajar to his right. A single guard lounged lazily beside it, running a whetstone down the blade of his sword. He stood when he saw Sokka coming, then seemed to decide a bow wouldn’t be worth the effort. He sat back down, nodding deferentially as Sokka stalked past him and into the palace.

He relaxed when he saw the racks of weapons lining the walls. The torches hanging on the walls reflected menacingly off of the blood red tiles and wickedly sharp blades, but the sight wasn’t really disturbing to him. Here was something that felt familiar in the middle of all this craziness. He wished he had Spacesword with him here, but he supposed, as he ran a hand along a wall of various swords, that one of these would probably work just fine. He took several down and weighed them in his hands, finally selecting one that had a well-worn grip and felt friendly in his palm.

He carried it through the set of double doors at the end of the room, hoping that he’d find the training room beyond. He wasn’t disappointed.

“Whoa,” he breathed. This was the nicest training area he’d ever been in. Dummies lined one wall, cabinets full of various supplies lined another, and the center of the room was marked out with sparring rings of various sizes. He started towards the dummies, pleased that the room was empty. He was in the mood to hack shit apart, not be judged over his technique.

He had only been stabbing at the dummy for a few minutes when he was interrupted by a soft cough behind him. He turned, swearing and prepared to murder whoever had come in.

It was Zuko. He looked ruffled, like he’d run there, and his face was a bit pink. He tried not to notice how endearing that was. He was trying to be angry here! Which would be a lot easier if he wasn’t rapidly coming to understand that he’d been a complete dick.

Instead of saying as much, however, Zuko raised a scabbard towards him. “Do you wanna spar?” he asked hopefully.

“Uh, sure,” Sokka said. He wasn’t sure what Zuko was going for here, but the longer he could prolong his inevitable apology, the better. He still had his manly pride.

Zuko walked into the center of the ring, carefully drawing out his blade. Sokka saw that there was a seam down the middle, and he was momentarily confused until Zuko pulled the handle apart to reveal dual blades. _Cool._

He followed him into the ring, stopping at what he considered to be a reasonable distance. He struck his stance, waiting.

Zuko attacked in one long, fluid motion, striking so fast that Sokka almost got decapitated. _Holy shit he’s good._  But then all other thought was driven from his head, because it turned out that fighting Zuko was really goddamn difficult.

He ended up on the defensive, trying to catch as many of Zuko’s blows on his own sword as possible, but he’d never sparred with someone who moved so well or wielded double swords so effectively. He was soon covered in bruises and had only managed to land a few blows on Zuko. In spite of himself he began to appreciate Zuko’s moves more for their form than for his own tactical recollections… the way that Zuko’s muscles bunched before he sprang, the way that his hair whipped through the air as he leapt forward, the cold determination in his eyes as the blades flew up to...

_Clang._

His sword skittered away across the floor as Zuko pinned him to the wall. They’d fought their way out of the ring and across the room, and Zuko’s blades were pressed tight against his neck. They were both breathing hard, and Zuko’s pale face was floating just centimeters away from his own. He stared at him hard, watching the resolve in his eyes flicker and go out.

Sokka shoved him suddenly, grabbing his upper arms to pivot and slam him into the wall. Zuko dropped his swords in surprise and then he was flush against Sokka’s body, the heat of him almost burning Sokka.

“I do care,” he spat, his golden eyes piercing Sokka. “About last night. I cared.”

“So why did you leave?” Sokka hissed. He found that he wanted to know; he wanted to hear why Zuko had left him. Could there possibly be a good reason?

“To let you sleep, ok? I would have stayed if I knew you’d be upset.”

“Oh really?” Sokka scoffed, his hands tightening on Zuko’s arms. The excuse seemed almost pitiful in its ordinariness. “How thoughtful.”

“Last night meant something to me,” Zuko said, his voice tight. “I thought it meant something to you too.” Sokka glared at him, still panting, but he couldn’t find a lie in Zuko’s eyes. Plenty of aggrieved anger, but no deception.

Sokka kissed him. There didn’t seem to be anything else to do: between the two of them their communication skills were fairly limited, but Sokka knew they both understood this. Zuko made a deep sound of approval low in this throat even as he was smashed even more forcefully into the wall. His mouth was hot and wet and his tongue invaded Zuko’s mouth, licking past his teeth and into the slick interior, remembering what it was like to have that mouth on his skin. He wanted Zuko to bite him, he wanted him to leave a mark... He wanted to be devoured by him.

His hands grabbed Zuko by the backs of the thighs, yanking his legs out from under him. The crush of their bodies kept him upright as he wrapped his legs around Sokka’s waist, and he could feel the solid heat of his cock even through their clothes. He ground into him hard, enjoying the wild groan Zuko let loose. He pulled back to watch Zuko properly and rolled his pelvis forward just to see what it would do to him. Zuko’s eyes rolled back in his head, his hands scrabbling for purchase in Sokka’s hair. His nails bit into Sokka’s scalp and he moaned, driving his hips forward again. He wanted to be nearer, wanted to strip down to skin, hell, wanted deeper than that, wanted _more_. He wanted Zuko inside (his cock got unbearably hard just at the thought of it), but right now he settled for this, for this stupid raging dry humping against the wall of the training room.

Zuko seemed to understand something instinctively about Sokka’s mental state, and one of his hands found the burgeoning bruise he’d planted on Sokka’s side.  His eyes snapped open to meet Sokka’s, and they were dark with desire. He pressed at the mark, drawing a tortured moan from Sokka. He dropped his head to Zuko’s shoulder, unable to stand looking at him anymore. If he watched him this would all be over embarrassingly quickly.

“Is that how you want it, Water Tribe?” he teased, running his tongue up Sokka’s neck. He nodded jerkily against Zuko’s shoulder, his hips thrusting uncontrollably now, doing anything to increase the friction, to get Zuko to squirm under him. Zuko let out a low laugh that made him shudder, his hips snapping forward even as Zuko’s arched up from the wall to meet him. Zuko licked at his hairline, one hand fisting in Sokka’s hair, the other searching out every bruise, every scrape, and pressing on each one. Sokka could barely keep up, he was shaking, he was so close…

Zuko’s mouth found his, pulling painfully hard at his hair to hold him in place. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, his teeth clamping down on it. Sokka came with a muffled shout, his hips seizing up, his hand clenching on Zuko’s ass as he ground into him. He barely noticed Zuko following soon after, crying out against his mouth.

They stayed frozen for a few seconds like that: Zuko clinging to Sokka by the waist and head, his legs locked around his hips; one of Sokka’s hands tangled in the fabric drape behind Zuko’s head, the other gripping his ass. Sokka’s lip was still caught between Zuko’s teeth, his bruises throbbing dully, and the electricity from before was starting to give way to something else.

“I’m so sorry,” Sokka pulled away from the wall, aware that those weren’t the choicest post-sex words. He tried to put Zuko down, but he didn’t let go of him. He hung comically from Sokka’s body like a baby alligator-monkey unwilling to release the tree.

“I’m sorry, too,” he said, his undamaged eye wide and earnest. He licked at Sokka’s bruised lower lip, earning himself another moan. “I shouldn’t have left. I won’t do it again.”

“No, I’m sorry about _this_ ,” Sokka said, stroking his hands up Zuko’s back apologetically, trying to use the tender gesture to make up for how he'd handled him before. “That was really rough. I didn’t…”

“It was good,” Zuko said quietly.

“Well, yeah, it was, but—“

“I’m not ashamed of it,” Zuko said. He glared defiantly into Sokka’s eyes. “Why should you be?”

“I attacked you?” Sokka said cautiously.

“I beg to differ,” Zuko smirked, unhooking his hand from Sokka’s hair to thumb at his lower lip.

“I wanted you to,” Sokka whispered.

“So did I,” Zuko sighed into his mouth. He kissed him more gently now, and the gesture warmed Sokka in an entirely different way than their previous activity had. It was like he’d swallowed something nourishing and rich, the kind of thing that made a pleasant warmth spread throughout his body on a cold night. It was odd to think that Zuko could be the one doing that to him, but it was true. And suddenly he wanted so badly to make up with him from their fight. “I wanted to fuck like this.”

“Really, though,” Sokka said breathlessly, trying to reroute his brain from the sheer sexiness of Zuko’s mouth forming the word “fuck”. “I was stupid. I heard some stuff and I decided some stuff, and I was an asshole—“

“Just kiss me Sokka,” Zuko rolled his eyes. “I care about you, ok? It’s all good.”

Sokka grinned as he leaned back in. _I care about you too, Zuko._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General consensus on the porn? Consider yourselves my market research group ;-)
> 
> Update: Come explain [tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/) to me!


	13. The Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're starting to edge a little closer to the really good stuff… bear with me, you guys! But I really wanted to get in a little bit of lighter Zuko/Sokka interaction and bonding before shit hits the fan. 
> 
> Also, this one ended up a little longer than they usually are. Do I hear anyone complaining? ;-)

For the next weeks, Zuko floated along in a cloud of blissful contentment. He hadn’t spent any more nights with Sokka since their fight and subsequent make up—he couldn’t stop blushing whenever he remembered it—in the training room, because Sokka was busy moving into his own apartments over Zuko’s. But they’d spent hours together during the intervening days, especially now that Iroh had to resume his regular Fire Lord duties and his mother had returned to her village for a vacation. Lu Ten was leading a diplomatic envoy to the Northern Water Tribe, and had only briefly been able to wish Zuko congratulations on his wedding before his departure. Azula was still roaming around, but she was under strictest supervision, and Zuko couldn’t find in himself to care what she was up to. His newfound feelings for Sokka burned brightly inside of him, a secret only the two of them shared, and they worked to dispel any worry he could have about his sister’s scheming.

He had recently taking to strolling the gardens in the afternoon, reliving other walks he and Sokka had enjoyed recently. This afternoon he was on his way to a meeting with the Chancellor of Education and the Minister of the Interior, however, carrying stacks of reports about the removal of pro-war propaganda from the school curriculum. He was just wondering whether or not the issue was really a question of national security when he became aware of a strange sound off to his left.

He stopped. The tree closest to him was rustling ominously, and unless he was very much mistaken… There was a flash of blue from up in the highest branches, and the unmistakable sound of someone swearing vociferously. Zuko bit back a laugh.

“Uh, Sokka?” Zuko called up into the tree, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what the HELL are you doing up there?”

There was a crack, a few crunching thuds, and an undignified shriek. “Zuko?!” Sokka yelped. “You made me fall, you rat bastard!”

Now Zuko really did laugh. He looked up, trying to see Sokka from between the branches. A very brown face peered back down at him, those big blue eyes blinking owlishly at him. Sokka’s face twisted with good-natured irritation.

“You dare laugh at me? I am your _husband_ , Jerkbender!” there was some scuffling, and then Sokka swung down to a lower branch. He perched there, crouching just out of Zuko’s reach.

“That’s _Prince_  Jerkbender to you,” Zuko cocked an eyebrow.

“Oh, so sorry my liege,” Sokka affected a mocking bow, made awkward by how he was still clinging with one hand to the tree. Then he glanced back up the trunk, his brow creasing worriedly. “My boomerang got stuck,” he explained.

“So the boomerang _doesn’t_  always come back?” Zuko smirked.

“Har har, fuck you,” Sokka said mildly. “Either get your ass up here to help, or run along to the spa.”

“Fine,” Zuko said, dropping his papers to the foot of the tree. He swung himself easily onto the branch above his head, landing on the balls of his feet.

“Oh,” it was gratifying to see the look of impressed surprise on Sokka’s face.

“I can do things, you know,” Zuko said, smiling. He felt sure that flouting Sokka’s expectations would be well worth being late to his meeting. He grabbed Sokka roughly by the front of his grubby tunic and yanked him down dangerously. He caught his shoulder so that he wouldn’t fall, using his gravity to pull him close for a kiss. He had missed this even though it had been less than a day since he’d seen him last, and he didn’t hold back. He used every dirty trick he’d ever picked up, slipping his tongue into Sokka’s mouth without preamble, sliding his lips tantalizingly at first and then with bruising force. He ran the steadying hand on Sokka’s shoulder lower so that he could brush Sokka’s nipple through his shirt. By the time he pulled back Sokka looked barely able to keep himself in the tree. His eyes were wide and dazed, and his breath was delightfully uneven.

“What do you think the logistics would be if we tried to fuck in a tree?” he whispered.

Zuko laughed again, “I doubt it would be comfortable.”

“Damn it,” Sokka groaned. “I’m harder than this wood right now.”

“Oh, that was bad,” Zuko winced.

“I try,” Sokka winked, scrambling up to the next branch. “Ok, let’s do this if we’re gonna do it.”

“After you,” Zuko said, reaching up to pull himself higher as well.

They climbed together quite amicably, ribbing each other for their physical prowess, joking about the difficulties of scaling a tree with erections (it turned out that Sokka had quite a few more bad puns to try out), and wondering aloud whether they would be able to get away from their responsibilities for the night.

“I wouldn’t mind a rematch,” Sokka said, straddling one of the highest tree branches. Zuko was hanging from the limb across from him, and he chuckled. “Do you mean sparring?”

“Of course not,” Sokka said. “Although now you mention it, that would be ok too…” he stroked his chin thoughtfully, then shook it. “Naw, I wanna get a rematch on the _other_  stuff. The sex stuff,” he clarified unnecessarily.

“That could be arranged,” Zuko said. “Just to make sure the first two times weren’t a fluke.”

“Exactly!” Sokka said enthusiastically. “It’s for science! An inquiry into whether I can make Zuko squirm like a jelly-eel every time I do this,” he leaned over and bit gently at the crook of Zuko’s neck, then licked slowly and deliberately over the mark.

“Cheating,” Zuko whispered, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Cheating?” Sokka asked. “I thought we were discussing my quest for scientific truth.”

“I’m discussing the race to Mr. Boomerang. ReadysetGO!” and then he shot up into the leaves over Sokka’s head, already focusing on the metallic glint above him.

“NOW WHO’S THE CHEATER?!” Sokka roared.

Snickering, Zuko stretched out, his hand closing over the boomerang just in time for Sokka’s hand to lock onto his ankle…

“Shit,” he breathed. He’d taken his hands off of the tree to grab the boomerang, and he slid sideways, barely managing to cling to the metal as Sokka seized hold of him.

“Zuko?” Sokka gasped as Zuko plummeted past him, but he didn’t have the sense to let go and so he was yanked off his branch too. They fell together, branches whipping their faces, limbs barely missing their skulls as they plunged past them. Zuko could barely understand how, but Sokka had somehow taken hold of himself enough to reverse their positions so that he was the one underneath. Dimly, Zuko realized that he must have been feeling the worst of the impacts with the tree, but the way that he’d wrapped himself around his husband’s flailing body made it so that Zuko couldn’t really make the collisions more equitable. _Sokka is trying to protect me_  he thought confusedly.

_Thump._

Sokka hit the ground, his fall only slightly broken by the branches. Zuko landed atop him, his hair and robes in complete disarray, spread out over Sokka’s prone body in a pool of torn silk.

“Sokka?!” Zuko sat up, his voice tinged with panic. Sokka was lying very still, his eyes closed, his arms lying at odd angles on the ground. “SOKKA!” he grabbed his face in both hands, shaking him, so scared that he felt like he was choking—

“HA!” Sokka’s eyes snapped open, his mouth breaking into a huge grin. “I GOT YOU, YOU CHEATER!”

“Oh fuck you!” Zuko snapped, thumping Sokka on the head with his boomerang. Still, relief was flooding him, adrenaline pumping through his veins until he felt sure he might pass out from combination of the two. “Are you ok?” he ran his hands over Sokka’s face and head, feeling for bumps or cuts.

“I’m fine,” Sokka sat up on his elbows, wincing a little. He rubbed at the back of his head. “I mean, bruised, sure, but I totally think I owned that tree. You won’t mess with Sokka again!” he shook his fist up at it.

“Asshole,” Zuko smacked him on the chest. “What did you do that for anyway? You didn’t have to take the fall for me.”

“Literally?” Sokka laughed. Then his face grew more serious. “It was my fault we fell,” he said. “And, you know, it is my job to protect you. Wasn’t that part of our wedding ceremony?”

His face was so open and guileless that Zuko leaned down to kiss him even as he rolled his eyes at his stupidity.

“You know, I’m your husband too,” he mumbled against his lips.

“Oh, believe me, I know,” Sokka chuckled back. He sucked at Zuko’s tongue, his hands finding Zuko’s hips and yanking them down onto his own. Zuko moaned unabashedly. “Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to do this…” he sunk a hand deep into Zuko’s hair and pulled, their lips jolting apart as Sokka rolled them over so he was on top. He kissed his way down Zuko’s throat, his hand already busily feeling its way up under Zuko’s ruined robes.

“Oh look, lunch and a show,” came a bored voice from above them. Zuko’s head slammed so hard into the ground that he saw stars. He was suddenly looking up into Mai’s face, and over her shoulder was Azula, her mouth curved into a grim smile. A picnic basket dangled off of Mai’s arm, and she swung it lazily above his head.

“Rutting like animals in the garden,” Azula clucked. “Can you believe it, Mai?”

“I don’t think they were quite to rutting yet,” Mai said calmly, arching a single thin eyebrow at Zuko.

He felt a bit nauseous. No one besides her closest friends would be able to see it, but Mai was shaken. There was just the slightest widening of her eyes, a strange inflection in her words that wasn’t quite a tremble, but… Zuko didn’t love her, but he still cared, and he felt horrible that she’d seen this.

“I’d heard Water Tribe peasants were lascivious, but this is quite the display,” Azula carried on. “Give him more time to further debase dear Zuzu and I’m sure they’ll be fucking in the hallways next,” she sighed theatrically. “Such a shame. Maybe he’ll tire of him, though. And then we won’t be subjected to such debauchery.”

Zuko was completely distracted from his guilt toward Mai. He launched himself to his feet, dislodging Sokka, and loomed over his sister.

“Don’t you ever say that again,” he rasped, shoving her. She did not stumble, but took one unhurried step backward as though that had always been her intention. “Don’t you EVER talk about him like that. You have NO IDEA. NONE.” He had wanted to hit Azula in the past, had restrained himself because she was a girl and there was no honor in hitting a girl, but right now… he was shaking, his hands clenched in fists at his sides, his fire fighting to get out of him. He wanted to make her hurt the way her words had cut him. How could she say something like that about Sokka?

Oh god, Sokka.

He whipped around, grabbing Sokka by the shoulders desperately. He had the insane thought that if he would prevent Sokka from seeing Azula, her words wouldn’t be able to touch him. He used his body as a barrier, blocking her from Sokka’s sight, pushing Sokka back towards the tree.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, trying to ignore Azula’s snickers as she retreated back to the palace. He looked down into Sokka’s face, feeling anguished. “Are you all right? I’m so sorry she said those things.”

Sokka’s face was oddly blank. “It’s all right,” he said matter-of-factly.

Zuko blinked down at him. “What? No, no, it really _isn’t_  ok—“

“Well of course it isn’t,” Sokka barked, then recovered himself. He took a deep breath, “I’ve heard it all before, ok? She didn’t say anything new.”

“What do you mean?” Zuko asked.

“The Fire Nation doesn’t exactly have nice things to say about the Water Tribe, Zuko,” Sokka sighed. He pulled free of Zuko’s grasp. He looked very tired as he stooped to pick up his boomerang.

“Sokka!” Zuko jogged to keep up with him as he turned to follow Azula and Mai into the palace.

“Really, Zuko, drop it, ok?” Sokka turned, hitching an unconvincing smile back onto his face. He leaned in and kissed him. It was so soft, so tender and unassuming that Zuko felt like his heart was both melting and freezing at the same time. It wasn’t the kiss of someone who _wanted_  him, it was the kiss of someone who _cared_  about him. In that moment the difference seemed paramount.

“I just…” Zuko tugged on Sokka’s arm to stop his flight. “I can’t stand it. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt. And what she said was… I mean, it hurt _me_  and she wasn’t even implying…”

Something in Sokka’s eyes softened. “I know, babe,” he said gently. He turned around and marched back to the palace, his head down.

 _Babe?!_  Zuko felt like he couldn’t breath. He swayed on the spot, trying to sort through the anger, the shock, and above it all the growing warmth in his chest. _He called me babe. Is that a_ **thing** _couples call each other? Are we a couple now?_ And then he snorted to himself. They were married, how could they get any more couple-y than that?

He let Sokka go, turning to shuffle his papers into a pile. He really was so ridiculous sometimes. He needed to get to his meeting, not stand like an imbecile in the garden all afternoon plucking petals off fire-daisies.

But at the same time, when he really tried to work out his feelings, he could feel something shifting inside of him. _The Fire Nation doesn’t exactly have nice things to say about the Water Tribe_  Sokka had said. Zuko’s stomach turned over. The Fire Nation didn’t have much of anything good to say about anyone else, unfortunately, and he’d never stopped to consider that before. They’d been at war, but even now, a year later, they were only just _considering_  taking the kind of propaganda that spread lies about the other nations out of their official attitude.

And what did it mean to Zuko to be loyal to the Fire Nation? He was a prince, of course, and now that Iroh had adopted him, he was next in line to the throne after his older cousin. But he was barely important, not really useful for anything. Lu Ten was the one travelling the world, meeting with dignitaries, learning how to navigate politics and run a country. He wanted to travel as well, not for any personal ambition, but for the thrill of the experience. And the attitudes of the Fire Nation didn’t much condone that past visiting the colonies.

And then there was Sokka. He sighed, sweeping up the steps and into the palace proper. Zuko had always had the luxury of ignoring prejudice espoused right under his own nose, and now he was being forced to confront it for the first time. He was uncomfortable, yes, but also coming to see just how fortunate he was. And how tenuous his own connections to this place were. Wasn’t that what marriage was all about, anyway? Forming new, stronger connections to another person. Shifting loyalty away from external ties and into a more sacred internal bond.

Yes, he had a lot to think about. A lot more than just his next conference with the Chancellor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: Do you like this? Do you want more? Do you want me to write something for you? I'm a people pleaser, come talk to me! [tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	14. The Lead-In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a few things: 
> 
> First of all, apparently it's Zukka week? Is this true? Does this mean I actually should get a tumblr you guys?
> 
> Second of all, everyone go read everything interextrovert has ever written, cause that's how I spent my morning and it's totally worth your time :-)
> 
> And third of all, I am going to be going on a short hiatus after tomorrow because I have to pack to go back to college and then I'm going on a trip where I will have no wi-fi :-( BUT! That means that I'll have even more time to write, so while I will be wrapping up this story, everyone should start giving me ideas about what they'd like to see next! 
> 
> Ok, now here's the chapter, thanks for reading!!!

Sokka was glad that Zuko was willing to allow him to stomp off dramatically into the palace, but now he was actually there he wished Zuko was as well. _Is codependence a symptom of head trauma?_  he thought irritably, rubbing at the back of his skull. It had sustained several good thwacks from some of the branches, and it felt pretty tender. He mounted the steps into the palace and turned left, seeking out the stairs that led to his room.

He’d been overseeing a whole lot of renovation lately. When he’d arrived his chambers had been nice but decorated so oppressively in somber reds and burnt yellows that he’d felt stifled. He much preferred the light, airy room Zuko occupied below him, but after the blow up following their first night together, he’d felt strange asking Zuko if he could sleep over with him.

If he was going to be honest with himself, he mused, he also hadn’t asked Zuko if he could spend the night with him again because he was nervous. Nervous that the awkward passion of their wedding night had been a chance occurrence, that the angry lust in the training room was just latent frustration finding its way to the surface… and he was worried about seeming too eager. He’d only come to know Zuko recently, and he felt a bit guilty over how surprised he still was sometimes that he _liked_  him. It was against all odds, the math-y part of his brain protested, for this random guy to be exactly what he wanted.

He didn’t think he could deny that much longer either: Zuko was sort of perfect in so many ways. _Ok, so he’s shitty at talking about his feelings_  he admitted to himself _But he tries so damn hard! He’s not inconsiderate, he’s just emotionally crippled_. And why he found that so fucking endearing was past him. Yet somehow he did. Somehow Zuko was starting to feel like family.

He pushed open the door to his rooms and sighed with relief. This didn’t really feel like home, but the redecorating was just about done and the effect was already much better. The Fire Lord had assured him that these rooms were his for the rest of his life, and that he could take any liberties he felt necessary. Even so, he sort of wondered how Iroh’s future heirs would feel about having a space that was so flagrantly _Water Tribe_  tucked inside their palace.

He stepped inside. Gone were the thick crimson tapestries, the heavy gilt canopy-bed, and the black glazed tiles. Instead he’d had the walls repainted a pale frozen blue and hung with swathes of white silk, found a furniture maker who specialized in glass to craft exquisite pieces that looked like ice sculptures, and imported pelts from the Northern Water Tribe to replace the intricately woven rugs that had adorned the floor. He’d noticed that the Fire Nation liked things ornate and gilded, whereas the Water Tribe… well, he wanted room to spread out and breathe. The ice fields at home were the exact opposite of the geologically violent Fire Nation landscape, and he wanted at least one place where he could feel like his own home was represented.

He walked over to his desk. He was wrestling with an idea that had been brewing even before he’d climbed that tree with Zuko and told him he wanted another chance to test out their budding chemistry. He sat down and thumbed through his desk, looking for a fresh piece of paper. _How do I say this?_  he wondered… it wasn’t often that he couldn’t find words— _Usually the wrong ones_ —with which to express himself. _Is it normal to send a formal invitation asking your husband to fuck?_  he groaned to himself.

 _Zuko_  he began, then stopped. Should he call him “Prince”? But he’d never asked him to call him anything other than his name, and it seemed weirdly impersonal to include a title in a note like this. He sighed. _This is stupid, just go find him again_. But he was wrapped up in meetings all afternoon, and there was no way he was interrupting those for something this ridiculous. _You’re overthinking it. Calm down._

_Zuko,_

_Hi! I was just wondering if you wanted to come have dinner in my room with me tonight. The renovations are done and I’d like to see what you think. Plus we’d have time for some more athletic activities after dinner if you’re into it. Only bring one sword ;-)_

_See you later,_

_Sokka_

Chuckling at his own wit, he sealed it with his very own Water Tribe seal (he still felt very important every time he used it) and went over to the door.

“LI!” he yelled into the hall. His manservant came running, his stupid little tassled hat flopping into his face.

“Yes Master Sokka?” he asked, affecting a deep bow. He didn’t rise, keeping his upper body parallel to the ground while he awaited instruction.

Sokka still wasn’t really sure why he felt the need to do that, and it made him vaguely uncomfortable. He didn’t understand how Zuko always took it in stride. Surely his face was a more enjoyable sight than his shoes?

“Uh, hey man, would you take this to Zuko’s room? I mean, _Prince_  Zuko’s room?” he amended when the servant’s posture stiffened at the familiarity.

“Anything you desire, sire,” he said, straightening to pluck the letter from Sokka’s outstretched hand.

“Thanks!” Sokka called after him as he raced off down the hallway. _No points for speed_  he felt like adding, but oh well. Maybe he was just _really_  excited about Sokka’s booty call.

***

That night he got dressed with extra care. Li had knocked on his door earlier with a note from Zuko ( _Sokka, Of course I want to have dinner with you. I’ve been wondering when you’d invite me to see your decorating skills. Also, are you trying to use ‘sword’ as a euphemism for something else, because I only have my twin dao… Bye, Zuko_ ) that had made him roll his eyes at his literalness. Half the time he didn’t even understand that Sokka was hitting on him until they were making out.

Mmm… making out with Zuko… Sokka smiled at the thought of it, then realized he’d done all of his buttons up the wrong way. _Stupid Zuko and his stupid lips_  he grumbled. _Making me mess stuff up even when they aren’t here._

There was a knock on the door.

 _Oh shit, they_ **are** _here!_

“Come in!” he called, trying to get all his buttons done up right before the door could open. He was wearing a bright blue coat Li promised made his eyes look great, and a pair of slim black drawstring pants that hugged his ass really nicely. Not that he was trying to show off or anything.

“Hi,” Zuko said quietly from beside the door. He was standing awkwardly on the threshold staring around at the room. When his eyes alighted upon Sokka, however, they sharpened, taking him in. The door slipped out of his grasp and banged shut loudly. Zuko didn’t seem to notice, “Wow. You look… uh. Wow.”

“Thank you,” Sokka said smugly, drawing himself up. “You too.” Zuko did look good: he’d left his hair down for once and he was wearing a short robe over baggy red pants that he’d tucked into those absurdly pointy Fire Nation boots of his. His hair was getting pretty long, and was starting to brush his collarbone. “So I thought we could eat outside…” he said, gesturing towards the balcony.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Zuko tore his eyes away from Sokka to blink towards the archways leading outside. “After you.”

He followed Sokka outside. There was a low table set up and covered with food, surrounded by plush blue and white cushions.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much blue in my life,” Zuko said, smiling at him as he sat down. “I like it.”

“Yeah?” Sokka asked, delighted.

“Yeah.”

They started eating—Sokka supposed that there was no way you could get two teenage boys together with food and expect any kind of conversation to happen—and before long they were both lying back on the pillows contentedly.

“Back inside?” Sokka ventured after a while. It was nice lying on the cushions next to Zuko, staring up at the stars and listening to the firefly-crickets chirp and hum, but he was sort of hoping their night would lead to other things.

Zuko looked over at him. His hair was sliding liquidly over the edge of his cushion, and his eyes were very dark in the growing twilight.

“Ok,” he whispered.

Once inside, though, things were awkward again. Zuko paced around the edge of his room while Sokka poured them wine, running his hands along the silk wall hangings, petting the fur pelts lying around, and examining the glass furniture. He jumped when Sokka handed him a glass and moved to sit down on one of his new chairs.

Zuko looked thoughtful as he stared around the room, and Sokka waited to speak, wanting to let him work through whatever was on his mind.

“You know, obviously I haven’t seen them,” Zuko began quietly, touching the smooth edge of a table, “but I don’t think the landscapes in the Southern Water Tribe are that different from here.”

Sokka took a sip of wine, feeling dubious, but let Zuko carry on.

“It’s just the mountains are made of ice, not stone. And if you think about it, there’s the same violent fluctuations, it’s just that instead of shifting rock and lava, it’s ice melting and breaking and refreezing…” his eyes were far away, “and when you get too cold, it burns worse than fire. They’re both so extreme. I don’t know,” he shook himself, glancing over at Sokka embarrassedly, “I guess I just want to see it. The Southern Water Tribe. Your home.”

“Oh,” Sokka’s mouth suddenly felt dry. He downed the rest of his wine and set the glass aside. “So you weren’t lying about liking the decorations?” he ventured, smiling slightly.

“Yeah,” Zuko said, smiling shyly back. “Yeah, I really wasn’t.”

“Cool,” he said. “Then maybe sometime we could, ya know, take a trip. Like a honeymoon or whatever,” he cleared his throat noisily. He hadn’t really expected Zuko to make any kind of pronouncements like that, but he was very flattered in spite of himself.

“I’d like that,” Zuko blushed but nodded fervently. “Very soon.”

“Uh, but anyway,” Sokka scratched his head, trying to return to what Zuko had been saying. “I never thought of it that way before.”

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately,” Zuko said. He stared down into his untouched wine.

“Huh,” Sokka’s mind was working to figure out why exactly Zuko might have been mulling this over, but the wine made him a bit sluggish.

“I don’t get cold like most people,” Zuko said suddenly. There was a strange light in his eyes, almost like hope? “And I lived with my uncle on a battleship for months when Ozai rebelled. So I don’t mind boats or living without all this,” he gestured around the room, encompassing all of the palace finery.

“…right,” Sokka said. He had invited Zuko here because he wanted him in his space, wanted to see how he’d react to how personal it was. He’d also wanted to see if he could initiate a “rematch” tonight… he’d hoped that being in a comfortable environment would make him a bit braver.

Zuko’s actual reaction confounded him, however. He fit in perfectly in Sokka’s room, but he was speaking in riddles, and the embarrassment that had tinged their initial interactions had returned with a vengeance.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko shook himself, his face relaxing into an open smile. “I don’t know where I was going with that. More wine?”

“No, I’m ok,” Sokka said. He pushed his glass farther away. On a whim, he decided that since things were already tense, he might as well make it worse. “Zuko, how far did you get with that Earth Nation kid you were seeing?”

Zuko looked like he’d been doused in cold water. “What?” he croaked.

“How did you meet, anyway?” Sokka pushed. “I sort of wondered.” Maybe if he was lucky, he’d be able to bring this topic back around to what he actually wanted to be talking about.

“We, uh…” Zuko sat down opposite him in front of his empty fireplace, blushing furiously. “When I was with Uncle on the battleship. We put into port one night and all the soldiers left the ship to carouse. He was one of the refugees who had relocated to the town and some of the men were giving him a hard time in the bar. I, well,” Zuko blanched. “I stopped them. And he was resistant at first, but once we started talking we had some things in common. It just sort of happened. We were chasing down Ozai’s largest fleet of deserters and he wanted to get to one villages on their suspected route, so he hitched a ride.”

“Ok,” Sokka said, hoping he would answer the rest of his questions.

“I had my own cabin, so he ended up sleeping in there,” Zuko said. “It was good for a little while, but he had a temper worse than mine,” Zuko laughed mirthlessly. “So yeah, a long-term relationship wasn’t going to work.”

“You guys were ok in bed, though?” Sokka asked, trying to keep his tone light and conversational. He definitely wasn’t feeling anything even *close* to jealously. Definitely not. Not at all. _You aren’t fooling anyone_ a voice that sounded ominously like Katara’s whispered to him.

“I didn’t want him as much as I want you, if that’s what you’re asking,” Zuko said hotly, his expression abruptly intense.

“No!” Sokka said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t suggesting such a thing! I know that my animal magnetism is unmatched by any man in the world!”

“Good,” Zuko said, calming down enough to smile teasingly, “I wouldn’t want you to get the wrong impression about how desirable you are.”

“Please, you wish you were this sexy,” Sokka snorted. He ran a hand suggestively down his chest with a dramatic wink thrown in for good measure.

“Mmm, I do,” Zuko said, and the way his eyes swept appraisingly over Sokka’s body nearly had him blushing too.

He forged ahead, “So how much did you _do_?”

“Lots of stuff,” Zuko said, obviously disappointed that their brief flirting hadn’t permanently sidetracked Sokka.

“Your detail astonishes me,” Sokka said drily.

“Ugh, Sokkaaaa…” Zuko whined. Sokka had to chuckle at how uncomfortable Zuko was. “Why do you _care_?”

“I just do,” he said simply. “Spill.”

“Fine,” he groaned. “We blew each other a lot, especially in the beginning. Well, we started with hand jobs, but that kinda progressed. And we…” he was so red that if he hadn’t been a firebender, Sokka would have been concerned that he was overheating, “…we fucked.”

“Who was on top?” Sokka asked. His neutral façade was starting to crack, he knew it. Zuko was looking at him imploringly, and the sight didn’t help.

“I was,” he whispered.

Sokka let out a sigh of relief that had Zuko frowning with confusion. He explained shortly afterward: “Good. You know what you’re doing then.”

“What?” Zuko breathed, his eyes very wide.

“You won’t have any problem doing it to me,” Sokka clarified.

“Are you…” it was Zuko’s turn to clear his throat, “are you sure? That’s really what you want to do? Tonight?”

“Yeah,” Sokka shrugged. “I’ve wanted you to do it for a while now. Ever since the last time.”

“Last time,” Zuko echoed. His eyes grew dark at the memory.

“Yep,” Sokka grinned. “But no pressure!” he added quickly. “If you don’t want to—“

“I want to!”

Sokka’s grin widened at the rapidity of Zuko’s response.

“Well then…” he leered, and Zuko rolled his eyes. Sokka was a bit relieved that they were back on firmer ground now.

“You’re ridiculous,” Zuko said.

“I know,” he chortled. “That’s why you love me.”

There was a beat of mortified silence.

“So that rematch!” Sokka shouted into the deafening hush.

“Yes,” Zuko said. He looked so flustered that Sokka took pity on him and got up to place both hands on his shoulders.

“There’s no pressure for that either,” he said. Zuko nodded, and Sokka leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t really want to talk any more anyway. He could only insert his foot more securely into his mouth from here on out, and that wouldn’t do either of them any good. He wasn’t sure how he himself felt; he didn’t need to burden Zuko with any opinions about how he should be responding to their budding relationship.

 _Still_  he thought as one of Zuko’s hands twined into his hair and the other found the small of his back to draw him closer T _here could be way worse things than having Fire Prince Zuko fall in love with me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please keep stroking my ego-I mean, giving me feedback… I love to hear from you! And I'm totally serious about commenting with your ideas, because I love to hear about what you're dying to read, and I'd love to make it happen if I can.
> 
> Update: I figured out how to hyperlink for this: [tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/) (to be fair it wasn't that hard, I'm just technologically challenged)


	15. Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the last chapter before the break (after which I'll start wrapping some things up and hopefully we'll see some more of the Gaang). I just feel like you guys super deserved to see this before I head into the wilderness, so here it is. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy and keep commenting… I adore coming home to an inbox full of your thoughts and squeals (looking at you, Your_Royal_Madjesty) and ideas for future fics. I love you all and thanks so much for everything!!!

“You don’t have to,” Zuko breathed. “You know, if you aren’t…”

“Zuko, don’t take this the wrong way,” Sokka said, nipping playfully at his collarbone as he pushed him back towards the bed, “but shut the fuck up.”

“Soookka…” Zuko whined. “I know you said, but…”

Sokka slapped a hand over his mouth, effectively silencing him so that he could yank at the ties holding his robe closed. “Why does the Fire Nation wear so many goddamn layers?” he complained as the robe fell away to reveal another. “Oh my god, how many robes are you wearing?” he untied the next one and found an undershirt. “Fuck this,” he cursed, yanking the pin out of his wolf-tail.

“What are you…” but Sokka was already popping the blade free and slicing up through the bottom of Zuko’s shirt. “Hey!”

“Hold shtill,” Sokka said around the knife handle he’d stuck between his teeth so that he could rip Zuko’s shirt open with both hands.

“Why do you keep a knife in your _hair_?” Zuko demanded.

“For emergency sexytimes, obviously,” Sokka rolled his eyes and snapped the blade back into the whalebone handle. He tossed it aside and attacked Zuko’s chest. “Are you honestly mad?”

“I mean,” Zuko said faintly. His hands had drifted into Sokka’s hair, petting distractedly, “I liked that shirt.”

“Mmhmm,” Sokka hummed around his nipple. The vibrations apparently did something good for Zuko, because he shuddered, his mouth falling open, his fingers tightening in his hair.

“But, uh,” Zuko mumbled, “I like this better.”

“Yeah you do,” Sokka grinned. His thumbnail scraped over one of Zuko’s nipples, his teeth over the other. He was very much gratified to feel Zuko’s skin heat beneath his lips, a thin sheen of perspiration breaking out over his chest. “Huh,” he cocked an eyebrow at Zuko, “I didn’t know firebenders could sweat.”

“It’s, um,” Zuko rasped, “like, a, not a hot thing. I mean, uh, _you’re_  hot, so, it’s…” he cleared his throat, obviously having a hard time stringing a sentence together with Sokka’s mouth licking down his abs, “it’s more about that. Cause I’m, ya know,” he swallowed hard when Sokka drew the ties at his waist open, “worked up,” he finished faintly. His eyes fluttered shut.

“You don’t say,” Sokka said teasingly, encircling Zuko’s cock with his thumb and forefinger. Zuko swayed forward, his hips circling unconsciously, and Sokka pressed his advantage. With a swift push to his thigh he sent him reeling back onto the bed.

“Hey!” Zuko fought his way up out of the tangle of sheets and pillows, his hair in sexy disarray, his cock lying thick and hard against his stomach. Sokka was delighted by the sight of a messy, naked firebender in his bed, and even more so by the fact that it was Zuko.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t really seen him clearly the night they’d actually taken their clothes off for sex. In the mad dash to get Zuko’s dick into his mouth as quickly as possible, he hadn’t stopped to enjoy the view, but it was definitely spectacular. Zuko was lean and elegantly muscled, his body not as bulky as Sokka’s, but with every bit as much strength. A fine smattering of dark hair trailed down his navel towards his cock, which was, well, _Sort of intimidatingly awesome_  Sokka decided.

He tried to ignore the way Zuko was panting expectantly, but he couldn’t help noticing how Zuko’s eyes widened when he began to strip off his own clothes. He took his time, and it was a long enough wait that Zuko flopped back onto the bed, groaning in consternation.

“Why do you hate me?” he grated, one arm flung dramatically across his face.

“I don’t hate you,” Sokka laughed, finally climbing up onto the bed next to him. He loomed over him, running a hand down the forearm covering his face. “That’s why I subjected you to my sexy striptease.”

Zuko rolled his eyes at him, “I can hardly contain myself, you beast you.”

“None of that!” Sokka smacked him on the chest. He left his hand there, though, and lowered his voice to what he hoped was a sultry pitch. “If you aren’t careful I’ll make it impossible for you to contain yourself…”

“Promise?” Zuko’s eyes darkened perceptibly.

 _Oh yeah_  Sokka thought triumphantly. _I win all the things._

He kissed Zuko. He was instantly responsive, his mouth opening hungrily so that his tongue could lick into Sokka’s mouth. He twisted suddenly, grabbing Sokka by the biceps and shoving him onto his back so that he could roll onto him. His hands skated up Sokka’s arms, pinning his wrists to the mattress. He lowered himself deliberately, breaking the kiss so that he could look Sokka in the eye as their erections slid against one another. Sokka gasped, his hips driving up, but Zuko anticipated the movement and held himself just out of reach. Sokka wailed, his power of speech momentarily short-circuiting.

Zuko chuckled, ducking his head to nuzzle Sokka’s neck torturously. “Now who’s being impatient?”

“Fuck you,” Sokka whimpered. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Of course I am,” Zuko said. “What fun would it be otherwise? And anyway,” he licked up Sokka’s neck, and Sokka melted at the contact. _So hot. So fucking hot_ ** _._** “I thought you were the one who wanted to get fucked.”

Sokka couldn’t really have described the noise that came out of his mouth at Zuko’s words. It was somewhere between a strangled moan and a helpless yelp—if yelps could be manly and  _sexy_ , of course.

“Please, Zuko, god, I’ll do anything, just do it ok, just fuck me, please, I can’t—“ he babbled mindlessly, hips swiveling desperately, searching for friction, for contact, for something, for _anything_.

“Well since you said please,” Zuko whispered. He pulled back further, earning another exasperated noise from Sokka. His concerns were quickly quashed, however, as Zuko grabbed him by the hips and flipped him over easily, popping his hips up so that he was on all fours. “This ok?” Zuko gently spread Sokka’s thighs, then ran a hand up his spine. Sokka’s skin tingled in its wake, every single nerve in his body standing at attention. He wasn’t entirely sure where Zuko was going to take this, but _spirits_  he couldn’t wait.

“Hell yes,” he said emphatically. He tried to be patient, but it was nearly impossible. Zuko was taking his time doing something behind him, and he twisted a little, trying to figure out what it was.

“Hold on,” Zuko laughed. Actually _laughed_  at Sokka’s distress! He was incredibly tempted to let go of all remaining dignity and just straight up hump the sheets, he was so hard. But oh man, he also didn’t want to come just yet, and it would probably be the most humiliating event of his life if he came before Zuko even touched his cock properly.

“What am I waiting fo—holy shit!” he had to catch himself before he rammed backward, because breaking Zuko’s nose would also be pretty embarrassing. But oh, _Shit that feels good. So good._  Pretty much the second that something slippery and hot had come into contact with his ass, every part of his brain not concerned with the words “Fuck”, “Yes”, “More”, “Zuko” and “Please” shut right the fuck down. Because Zuko’s tongue was obviously the most important thing in the world and if he pressed it any deeper, if his mouth got any hotter, if he kept making those wild, uninhibited, snarling sounds… Sokka wasn’t gonna last.

Maybe Zuko knew it too, because his tongue was soon joined by his fingers, and Sokka almost cried in relief. They were almost there, almost to the part he’d been thinking about and dreaming of and desperately jerking off to all this time. One finger glided easily inside—so Zuko had kept him waiting for lube, the sneaky bastard—and then there was another and another, until all three were sliding in and out of him. Judging by the shifting of the bed and the feel of Zuko’s weight behind him, he was back up on his knees, kneeling above Sokka so that he could hold him still with one hand and use the other to work him open.

Sokka was so overwhelmed by the onslaught that he could hardly recognize that the sounds he was making were his own… Surely he didn’t _mewl_  did he? There was no way, that had to have been Zuko… but he was completely aware of the moment when Zuko’s hand retreated and he shuffled forward on his knees to press his cock against Sokka’s entrance. His own cock was so hard it was throbbing, dribbling precum onto the sheets, but he could wait, had to wait for this. And there it was, in the controlled, cautious roll of Zuko’s hips as he began to push inside, in the tight pressure and hesitant give as he took him in. And then…

Zuko began to thrust, slowly at first, but soon more assuredly as Sokka panted and moaned in what was obviously pleasure. Sokka couldn’t stop himself from driving backward to meet Zuko’s hips, and he collapsed forward onto his elbows, his head tucked down lower so that he could brace himself. Zuko was ramping up, his hips rocking forward more urgently, his dick pumping slickly into him and each thrust was punctuated with a little grunt from Zuko and a low moan from himself. That soundtrack made it all the more erotic, all the more difficult to keep from spiraling into something frantic and savage. Sokka realized suddenly that he wanted that, that Zuko was holding back even now, and that was no good. Over the wet slap of skin on skin he tried to speak.

“Oh god, Zuko, pull, please,” Sokka moaned, bowing backward. He looked over his shoulder at Zuko, trying to silently communicate his need. Zuko’s eyes were wide and startled, but Sokka was relieved to see—through the haze of lust that made everything sparkle brightly—that his pupils had expanded hugely at the request. And then strong, graceful fingers danced up his spine with deceptive tenderness and wove into his hair, and _Yes_. He didn’t know why, but there was something in the shock of it, or in the dark heat in Zuko’s eyes perhaps, that suddenly ratcheted everything up a notch.

He scrambled back up onto his hands, pushing his hips backward with a yell, trying to get Zuko deeper, trying to get some control because abruptly it all needed to be _harder_  and _faster_  and, “Fuck me, fuck, Zuko.” He was babbling nonsense, spewing obscenities and he was shoving himself backward, driving his hips in opposition to Zuko’s, slamming himself onto his cock, “More, yes, oh god.” He couldn’t help it, fucking himself onto Zuko’s dick was the hottest thing he’d ever experienced, and when he finally had the presence of mind to close his hand around his own cock, it was as good as over.

He came against the sheets, his hips jerking forward uncontrollably, sucking Zuko in with him. He clenched around him unconsciously, and Zuko swore, “Fuck Sokka, I’m gonna come, do you—“ but it was cut off as he pulled backward instinctively and Sokka felt something hot and wet spill all over his ass and lower back.

“Oh shit,” he mumbled. He slumped bonelessly onto his pillows, unsure how to even begin to process what had just happened. It was all so much, and Zuko was getting up—how could he even _move_  after that?!—and returning a moment later with a damp cloth. He gently ran it over Sokka’s back, and then slim fingers rolled him over and out of the wet spot to dab lightly at his chest. He gazed up at Zuko from under lids that felt too heavy to stay open, but they snapped wide at the expression on his face. Sokka had never thought he’d see Zuko looking so… vulnerable. Maybe it was the aftermath of the sex talking, but Sokka was pretty sure there was some kind of heart-shattering emotional _something_  taking place on Zuko’s face, and he found that he wanted to witness it.

All his suspicions were confirmed at Zuko leaned down and brushed his lips over his own. It was barely a kiss, easily the chastest one Sokka had ever experienced with a lover, and he couldn’t breathe when it was over. Zuko was climbing back into bed with him, considerately pulling both of them away towards the less messy side of the enormous mattress, and he was wrapping his limbs around Sokka’s and…

“Tomorrow morning I’ll stay,” he slurred sleepily.

“What?” Sokka whispered into his hair. Zuko had tucked himself securely under his arm and entangled their legs so that he wasn’t really sure whose limbs belonged to who.

“We’ll do the newlywed day, thing,” he murmured. “Stay in bed all day and order food and cuddle and shit. Whatever you want,” he yawned.

Something in Sokka’s chest broke open, and his arms tightened around Zuko. That sensation, that fluttering that stroked through his veins like the tiny beating of thousands of glow-moth wings was so familiar and yet still so new that he had very few coherent thoughts worked out about it as he drifted into sleep.

Prominent among them, however, was the thought that he was completely done for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: I'm sick of hearing me talk about [tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/) by now, but I really want prompts.


	16. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh you guys, LOOK, I have a new chapter for you! YAY!!! I hope you enjoy… Also, know that I have a few more lined up, that yes, my hiatus is over, and that if I'm lucky I'll get to keep posting every few days or so.
> 
> I love you all and thank you so much for being patient with me.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“No, I’m not. Why?” It was a testament to Zuko’s sheer pigheadedness that he managed to look so honestly perplexed.

“You just told me that Toph is dating Ty Lee, and I’m not supposed to be freaking out?!” Sokka waved his arms exuberantly to drive the point home, accidentally sending several pillows flying from the bed.

“Did you see them at the wedding?” Zuko lowered his papers and looked at Sokka seriously. “It was pretty obvious they were into each other.”

“I was under the table with you for half of our wedding party,” Sokka let out a whoop of laughter.

“Hardly,” Zuko turned a page, blushing down at it, “I was only under there for a few minutes.”

“That’s long enough,” Sokka waggled his eyebrows at him suggestively.

“ _You_  think _I_  only last a few minutes?” Zuko snorted.

“Hey!” Sokka shot back upright, “What are you implying Jerkbender?”

“Oh nothing,” Zuko shuffled the papers into a neater stack and set them on his bedside table. “Just that maybe you shouldn’t start making any jokes about anyone else’s sexual stamina.”

“I deny these charges!” Sokka said dramatically, plunging a finger towards Zuko’s chest accusatorially. “I think the prince doth protest-eth too much!”

“Yeah right,” Zuko snickered, batting Sokka’s hand aside and tackling him to the bed. “I have you screaming in about 5 seconds flat.”

This pronouncement was much harder for Sokka to refute when Zuko’s hands were skimming along his sides and his mouth was pressed to his throat. He wriggled beneath him, trying to fight the temptation to let himself be overwhelmed. _Gods Sokka, what’s more important to you: fucking Zuko or making your point?_

“I’m just saying,” Sokka breathed. “We should have them over. Or something.”

“Hmmm…?” Zuko’s tongue flicked along his collarbone.

“If Toph is already coming to visit…” Sokka tried to continue. “We should invite everyone else too. We’ve been married for a couple months now…”

“Yes,” Zuko’s mouth parted company with his pec and he wasn’t sure whether to be angry Zuko had stopped or be triumphant that he had won. “It’s been a little while.”

“And so we should meet each other’s friends, right?”

“You’ve met Mai and Azula and Ty Lee,” Zuko pointed out.

“Ok, so you don’t have friends—“

“Hey!”

“—but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get to know _my_  friends. We’ll get them all together! What’s the worst that could happen?”

***

“Famous last words, Sokka,” Zuko muttered. He was standing in the front courtyard wearing his second-most formal robes (the ones most appropriate for the arrival of the Avatar) and he was feeling stiff and itchy. Sokka was bouncing excitedly beside him, craning his neck and nudging him at every likely looking object to cross the sky. Thus far he’d had to convince him three times that particularly fluffy clouds did _not_ , in fact, resemble a sky bison at all.

Now the moment had come, however, and it was with some trepidation that Zuko watched Appa come to a gentle landing in front of them. He turned to look at Sokka, but he was already hooting with joy and sprinting across the stones to throw his arms around his sister. She staggered a little under his weight but looked pleased, a wide smile lighting her face as she hugged him. Avatar Aang alighted next to them to join the group embrace, and even from far away, it was obvious that he was already talking a mile a minute.

It was only Toph’s presence that kept Zuko from feeling entirely out of place in the midst of the happy reunion. She had slid gingerly down the side of one of Appa’s legs and was engaged in what appeared to be an intense communion with the paving stones. At the very least she was sprawled out facedown atop them and, uh, _Is she kissing the ground?_

Something about the sight made Zuko feel marginally better about not being included in the little group still clinging to one another in the shadow of Appa’s enormous belly. He swept forward until the tips of his boots were even with Toph’s head, and bent down to speak to her. “Should we give you privacy?” he grinned. “I feel like I’m intruding on your personal time.”

“Oh, hey Fire Princess,” she mumbled, not even bothering to pick her head up from the ground. “Mind if I sleep out here?”

“I don’t,” he shrugged, then realized the gesture was probably lost on her. “But Ty Lee might be a little sad not to enjoy an actual bed with you tonight.”

“Yeah,” Toph groaned, heaving herself to her feet as though parting from the paving slabs was a deeply felt burden, “she’ll probably expect me to bathe, too.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said, turning to see an explosion of tiny pink girl cartwheeling towards them from the palace entrance, “she doesn’t actually mind roughing it. Somehow she never gets dirty herself, though…” he trailed off, pondering the enigma that was Ty Lee. Before he could really consider her remarkable personal hygiene, however, she was upon them, and Toph’s face was breaking into an enormous grin.

“Hey baby,” she greeted her, reeling her in by the waist for a sloppy and frankly obscene kiss. Zuko averted his eyes—because seriously _his eyes_ —in time for Sokka to swoop in from nowhere. He slipped his arm around Zuko’s waist as he did so, and dipped him down for their own unceremonious kiss.

Zuko grabbed at the front of his tunic desperately to keep himself from falling, but Sokka’s arm around his back was firm and strong, his hand on Zuko’s jaw gentle. Zuko sank into the kiss, forgetting for a moment that this was embarrassing and that everyone was there to see it. For a second it was just him and Sokka, and fuck what anyone else thought.

Toph cleared her throat ostentatiously. “For shame,” she snickered. “At least Ty and I have the excuse of long distance: you shitheads get to fuck all the damn time.”

“And they do,” Azula had joined them, Mai shadowing her as usual. She rolled her eyes at them contemptuously. “I’m Princess Azula,” she said unnecessarily to Toph, Katara, and Aang. “So interesting to meet the Avatar and his,” her eyes flicked disparagingly over Katara, “Water Tribe girl. Mai, it looks like everyone has one,” she smiled viciously. “I should look into what the newspapers are printing on the subject. Maybe Water Tribe peasants are the hottest spring accessory.”

Mai wasn’t even looking at Azula. She nodded apathetically in her direction, but Azula had already turned back to observe the effect her words had had on the group.

Zuko could feel every inch of him heating with suppressed rage. He’d only invited Azula to dinner tonight because Sokka had told him to, and now here she was, insulting Sokka and his family and his _nation_  only seconds after they’d arrived.

“Oh no, I think that dour Fire Nationals are all the rage,” Katara said breezily, eyeing Mai, “And you’ve already got one of those. So really it was my brother who picked up on the hot trend ahead of the curve.”

And then she grabbed Aang by the arm and marched into the palace.

Zuko didn’t know whether to cheer and applaud her swift comeback, or be very offended that she’d implied he was dour. Except, well _Who can blame her?_

***

“No, Aang, I love you, but I want to see my brother alone,” Katara banged her way into Sokka’s room, still calling over her shoulder to Aang as she entered. “I’m sorry Toph is being so loud with Ty Lee, but they haven’t seen each other in weeks. Go feed Appa or something.” She let the door slam shut behind her as she turned to face the room. Then she immediately stopped, her face registering nothing but surprise. “It looks so…. Water Tribe!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, Iroh let me redecorate,” Sokka smirked, pouring her a glass of wine.

“Oh, it’s ‘Iroh’ now, is it?” she took the glass and sipped. Her eyes popped wide at the taste. “They can really afford the good stuff, can’t they?” she said grudgingly.

“That’s the nice thing about royalty,” Sokka admitted good-naturedly. “But man, it’s nice to see you. How are you and Aang?”

“Better than ever,” she smiled, and her whole demeanor changed. She looked suddenly luminous. “I know it’s still early, but… I think maybe he’s it. I think we’re gonna end up married.”

“Wow,” Sokka sputtered. “That’s amazing! Ordinarily,” he scratched awkwardly at the fuzzy side of his head, “I’d probably say something older-brotherly about not rushing into anything, but, you know.” He gestured around at the room. “I didn’t really take that advice. So.”

“Well you didn’t have the opportunity to take anyone’s advice,” Katara’s face fell. “You got pushed into this.”

“Yeah, but it isn’t that bad!” he said, trying to bring the mood in the room back around to one of celebration. “The booze is good, the food is _awesome_  and the people are ok, too,” he felt he had to be excused if that last comment had his eyes glazing over a little while he relived some recent time spent with Zuko.

Katara was watching him closely. She strolled over to the doors to the balcony, stroking aside a diaphanous pale blue curtain distractedly. She toyed with it while she stared at him.

“Are you happy here? With him?” she asked. Her forehead was doing that scrunch-y, tense thing it always did when she was worried, and he sort of wished she’d stop. Her misplaced sense of maternal duty towards him was at once her most endearing and most infuriating trait.

“Yeah, I think I am,” he said. “Happy with him, I mean. I think—he’s just—I, uh…” he knew what he wanted to say, he even knew how to say it, he was just _Pretending I don’t because I don’t know if that’s what Katara wants to hear_  he finished to himself.

“Go on…” Katara said, her forehead crinkling up even more.

“I think maybe I love him?” Sokka said. It came out way squeakier than his usual voice. He cleared his throat, eager not to disrupt his status as the paragon of manliness with some humiliating adolescent vocal cracking.

“I see…” Katara said. Something in her voice made him look around at her. She wasn’t looking at him at all. Instead she was staring out of his balcony doors and out across the garden, still with that little frown firmly in place. “What about here, though?” she waved out at the grounds. “The Fire Nation? I’ve heard some funny things while Aang and I have been travelling through it. Funny things about the Water Tribe and about, well—“ she shot him a shifty look, “about you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” It felt like something cold and heavy had fallen onto Sokka’s chest. It reminded him of the time he and Katara had gone penguin-sledding and he’d crashed into the base of a glacier. A giant pile of compacted snow had trapped him and he’d been convinced he would be slowly crushed to death. Until Katara had done the impossible and lifted the entire mass off of him by herself. That was the day they’d discovered her bending.

Except that right now Katara couldn’t save him, much as she might want to.

“You know about that?” she asked slowly.

“Of course I do,” he shrugged, attempting nonchalance. “Zuko is working on it, though. They’ve changed the curriculum in the schools now and we think that’s going to make a big diff—“

“Like that really matters,” she snorted, firing up at once. “Your dear _prince_  can change as much official doctrine as he likes, that won’t change what their parents say at home, or what the old ladies gossip about in the market, or…”

“Katara, _stop_.” Something in his voice made her pull up short. She looked at him with wide eyes.

To be honest, he had sort of surprised himself. His voice had been deep, commanding, _serious_ , and sort of…

“Jeez, you sound like dad,” she said quietly. “More like him every day.”

“And you sound like mom,” he laughed without much mirth. “But you always sounded like her.”

“I guess,” she fiddled with the engagement necklace at her throat. “You don’t have to defend him.”

“Yes I do,” he snapped. “He’s my husband. These are his people. No, they aren’t perfect, no they aren’t the same, no this isn’t home, but I owe it to him to _try_.”

“You don’t owe him anything!” she glared.

“Haven’t you been listening?” he glared right back. “I. Love. Him.”

Katara deflated. She slumped backwards against the arched doorframe behind her, her hair slipping over her shoulder as her chin drooped to her chest.

“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

“Huh?” Sokka was completely taken aback. He stared at her in confusion.

“I just get so mad thinking about mom, and he… well, he’s a firebender. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust a firebender. And,” her voice dropped even lower, and he had to strain to hear her, “I don’t like hearing them say those things about you. You’re my brother. I guess I want to hear that Prince Zuko is doing a little more than just getting rid of blatant propaganda. I guess I want to hear that you’re fighting this. That you’re just as mad as I am about everything that’s happened.”

“But I can’t, Katara. I can’t be angry all the time. And Zuko? He’s…” Sokka exhaled frustratedly, “we’re working on it. Ok?”

“Ok,” she nodded, straightening back up with a sigh, “If you’re satisfied, I trust you.”

Was he though? He smiled at her and nodded in thanks, but he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that tugged at the edges of his mind. Was it enough? Would it ever be enough?

Somehow he wasn’t so sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked the chapter/story, please feel free to leave me love! It fuels me ;-) 
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> And if you didn't like it, get the hell out.
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	17. Unrequited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, all the angsty internal dialogue is coming… And then, oh god, even more melodramatic angst after that. Cause am I the only one who thinks so, or are Zuko and Sokka both complete drama queens? I mean this seriously.

When Sokka found Zuko he couldn’t help being impressed in spite of himself. He was high above the training room floor, balancing nimbly on one of the rafters that stretched across the ceiling. Sokka paused beneath him to watch his progress. He made it look so easy as he carefully placed on foot in front of the other, his face smooth and meditative, rather than furrowed in anxious concentration as Sokka’s would have been in the same position.

“Do you need something, Sokka?” he asked, not even bothering to look down at him.

Sokka jumped. Zuko’s back was to him, and he’d thought he’d been quiet. Still, if he’d learned anything in the past few months it was that it was pretty much impossible to sneak up on Zuko.

“No, not really…” he sighed, then seized upon something much more important, ”What are you doing up there?”

“Sometimes I come up here when I need to think.”

“Oh. What do you need to think about?”

Something in his tone must have warned Zuko, because he pivoted sharply on the thin timber and then bent to sit, leaning down so that he could look Sokka in the face.

“You’re in a weird mood. What’s wrong?” he said by way of deflection.

Sokka was taken aback: it was very unlike Zuko to be particularly perceptive. Still, he didn’t feel like there was any good way to explain to him about the doubt that Katara’s words had sewn in his mind.

“Nothing!” he went for breezy and grimaced when he landed somewhere much closer to overly boisterous 2-year-old. Zuko’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “No, really, I’m fine!” Sokka held his hands up in surrender. “It’s all good. Come down from there, though? I wanna talk to you.”

“All right,” Zuko swung easily from the beam, grabbing hold of one of the hanging hooks to propel himself towards the ground. He landed gracefully on the balls of his feet, but was instantly knocked off balance by Sokka crashing into him. “Ooph,” he very eloquently protested, shoving at Sokka’s shoulders. Sokka had orchestrated the fall perfectly so that he was pinning Zuko to the plushest of the training mats.

Sokka grinned at him, trying to hide the edge of desperation in the expression. _We get this. We’re good at this_  he repeated to himself as he dipped his head to kiss the hollow of Zuko’s throat. _We can talk and laugh and I love him, but if he doesn’t love_ **me** _…_  the thought was almost unbearable, _I know we still have this_.

“Sokka,” Zuko gasped, his voice carrying a bit of warning even as his hands fastened on his shoulders. They stilled there, seemingly unsure about whether to pull him closer or push him away. “I thought you said we had to talk.”

“I lied,” Sokka breathed against his skin. “No talking. Shh…” he slapped a hand over Zuko’s mouth. Zuko mumbled against it, but Sokka determinedly ignored him, more interested in mapping his skin with his mouth than listening to his chastisements. _Nothing else matters_  his lips skimmed up Zuko’s neck _I don’t care what those assholes say_. His tongue darted out to trace the shell of his ruined ear _Just me and him. It’s just about me and him_.

Zuko’s breath was warm and ragged in his own ear, ruffling his hair as he gently kissed the bottom edge of his scar _He’s perfect the way he is. The Fire Nation is a package deal. He doesn’t feel the same way they do. He respects you. He cares about you._  Zuko’s breath hitched as Sokka licked along the ruined skin of his cheek, and he pulled back to check on him. His eyes had drifted shut, but his hand was clenched tight in the fabric of Sokka’s shirt. _Right?_

Those golden eyes snapped open and there was at once a ferocity and a tenderness in them that Sokka had never seen before. He had no warning before Zuko lunged up to capture his lips in a bruising kiss, one hand twisting violently in Sokka’s hair, the other tearing at his own robe.

“Get it off, get if off,” he moaned, pulling back to fight with the ties. They slid apart and he grabbed Sokka’s hand, guiding it to his chest. “Please. Touch me,” he whispered, and there was something cracked and vulnerable in his voice.

Sokka couldn’t do anything but obey.

***

Zuko couldn’t have explained what had come over him. It was just that look in Sokka’s eye when he’d come in, that unsteady lilt to his voice when he’d said he wanted to talk… He’d been so scared for a moment, worried that his sister had said something to him that had changed things. He didn’t know how Sokka felt, but he knew that Sokka liked this, that Sokka _wanted_  him—and that seemed like a miraculous, impossible thing even now—and that would have to do. If he could keep Sokka even just with this, that had to be enough.

 _You’re married_  he reminded himself. _He can’t go anywhere._

But look at his mother. Trapped in a loveless union with Ozai, she’d barely seen him even before his imprisonment, and now that he was gone she had all but fled back to her own tiny village. What was to stop Sokka from leaving if he wanted to?

 _Not me_  Zuko thought regretfully. _Not strong enough. Never strong enough._  No, he couldn’t bear the thought of Sokka going anywhere without him, but if he wanted to be with his sister Zuko didn’t have it in him to fight.

 _Is that love?_  Zuko thought wildly. Sokka’s hands were everywhere, just as he’d requested, making quick work of his pants so that they could sweep up fresh expanses of bare skin. Goosebumps prickled in their wake, shudders ran up his spine, and every part of him _wanted_  like he’d never wanted anything else in his life. _Does the way he make me feel mean I’m in love? Does it mean I’m in love that I want him to be happy even if I’m not?_  He just didn’t know, and what was worse, he didn’t know if Sokka was having the same concerns.

They’d talked about a lot lately, but never that.

The morning after—as he embarrassingly referred to it to himself—their second wedding night they had spent the entire morning in bed. And most of the afternoon as well. And yeah, they had cuddled and made out and ordered food, but mostly they just talked. It was both more wonderful and more surreal than Zuko could have hoped for.

He found himself telling Sokka things he hadn’t ever thought he’d tell anyone: about how it had felt to find out that his grandfather had died and his uncle would become Fire Lord, about the horrifying fury that had overwhelmed his father when his ambitions were dashed. About how he’d seen him begin to retreat into himself only to realize later that it was because he was plotting against the peace they’d worked so hard to establish. He had wanted so badly his entire life to live up to his father’s expectations and when the time had come to choose between Ozai’s rebellion and Iroh’s armistice everything he thought he’d ever wanted had been tested. And, he’d explained in a low voice, he was sure that he had chosen correctly. Except that somehow that hadn’t made it any easier to set out with his uncle to hunt down the army defectors loyal to his father. To hunt down his father himself. And when they’d found him…

Sokka had held him and shushed him and told him not to worry about sharing anything he wasn’t ready to, and oddly enough he’d found himself calming down right away. Sokka’s presence was comforting in much the same way it had been on their wedding day.

But right now the way Sokka’s tongue was licking up the side of his scar was anything but comforting. It was putting him on edge in the best way—but somehow also the worst?—and he thrashed beneath Sokka, his hips driving frantically upward of their own volition.

“Hey,” Sokka retreated, his eyes wide and startled at the fierceness with which Zuko’s body demanded his touch. “Is everything—?”

“Fine,” he managed, but it came out a growl. Sokka pulled back even further, the haze of desire over his gaze clearing a little as he stared at Zuko.

“No,” he shook his head like he was trying to clear it. “No, you aren’t fine.” He sat up, and even though Zuko tried to follow, he held out a hand to stop him. Zuko lay there, naked and propped up on his elbows, feeling ridiculous and more than a little humiliated. He’d gotten too worked up, and he’d driven him away. _Well done, Zuko, now he definitely doesn’t want_ **any** _part of you._

He sat up, his face flushing, and began to tie his robe shut with shaking fingers. Sokka was watching him, and when he looked up he saw that Sokka’s face was full of confusion and hurt. Why was Sokka feeling hurt? _Zuko_  wasn’t the one stopping them. _Sokka_  wasn’t the one who felt like his heart was breaking.

 _Overreacting, you’re probably overreacting_  he chided himself as he tugged his pants back on. _Sokka said there wasn’t any pressure to have certain feelings._  But another part of his brain screamed that maybe Sokka hadn’t said that for Zuko’s sake, but because Sokka knew he wasn’t going to feel that way about Zuko. _But I thought he could? That maybe he did a little?_

“What’s going on?” Sokka asked, his voice timid. Zuko was shocked: he wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Sokka sound anything other than confident and full of bravado.

“Nothing, really,” Zuko choked out. He lay a hand on Sokka’s arm, then promptly yanked it back, not wanting Sokka to think he was trying to start anything again. “How’s your sister?”

Zuko had hit gold. Sokka’s face couldn’t help but clear. “She’s good,” he said, smiling slightly. “She and Aang are in a good place: it seems like they’re gonna get married soon. She loves travelling around, but she thinks it’s almost time to go back to the South Pole. She said that she’s heard the whole tribe misses me, so I’ll have to come back soon to see them. She’s all excited about some new bending technique she learned and—“

Zuko couldn’t breathe. There it was, sandwiched in between more trivial news. Confirmation that Katara wanted Sokka to go back to the Southern Water Tribe with her. To go _home_  with her.

“—Toph has been working hard on her metalbending academy, which is awesome. Aang said that she’s recruiting students whenever she can, but it’s slow going to start. Not that many earthbenders can also metalbend so—“

Zuko tried to listen, but it was exceptionally difficult with all of the errant anxieties chasing each other through his brain. He wanted so badly to relax into the sound of Sokka’s chatter like he usually did, but Sokka’s friends’ arrival had thrown everything off kilter, the attendant insecurities it had stirred up threatening to overpower him.

He lay back down across the mats, barely attending to Sokka’s words. Eventually Sokka lay down next to him, still chatting animatedly, and tucked his head under Zuko’s chin, his long arm tight around his waist.

They lay like that on the training room floor for a long time, until Zuko felt sure he’d be swallowed by the weight of all the words Sokka had yet to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me comments or kudos if you have time! I love to hear from you guys and it always motivates me to write more, even though I've been busy lately :-)
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> Update: Look! [tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	18. Disastrous Intentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAA!!! For the first time ever, I've actually caught up to myself… I need to get writing. I hope that in the meantime no one has lost interest. The big dramatic climax is in the middle of happening!!!

Getting Katara and Azula together at the same table was rapidly proving to be a poor choice. Zuko kept shooting covert looks at Sokka down the table in the hopes that he might somehow be able to diffuse some of the tension he was caught up in, but Sokka was happily conversing with Ty Lee and Aang. At the very least, he didn’t seem to notice that their sisters were glaring at each other every chance they got.

On a weird note, Toph and Mai seemed to be getting along swimmingly.

“Yes, I try to keep them sharp just in case,” Mai was saying, stroking the razor sharp edge of one of her throwing knives.

“I’m impressed,” Toph admitted, shoveling a wad of spicy noodles into her mouth, “but I could get it sharper.”

“I’m sure you could,” Mai smiled slightly, “but since I’m not a bender…”

“I’ll sharpen the rest of them for you,” Toph offered, smacking her lips. “I wanna get my hands on ‘em anyway. You’ve got some rare metals melted into that thing.” She nodded towards the blade.

“Yes, it was a gift,” Mai’s eyes flashed briefly to Zuko, then back to her plate, “the alloy is very strong.”

“Yup,” Toph nodded, “that shit’s expensive. Must have been a rich boyfriend.”

“Royalty,” Mai said quietly. Zuko choked on his wine.

“Lu Ten?” Toph smirked. “Not a bad choice, but I’ve heard he looks like his dad,” she mimed cradling a rotund belly in her arms, “a little too much man for me.”

“Uncle is in excellent physical shape,” Zuko said, blushing at Mai.

“And anyway, _any_  man is a little too much man for you, Toph!” Sokka called down the table. Ty Lee and Aang dissolved into giggles.

“So, Katara,” Zuko turned to Sokka’s sister, trying to ignore Mai. Why did it always have to be so awkward? “How is the Avatar’s tour going?”

“Well,” she said primly. “We hope that this visit to the Fire Nation will be the last for a while, though. Aang and I are looking forward to seeing the South Pole again soon.”

“Is that so?” Zuko said, his mouth going dry. He shot a look at Sokka, but he was regaling Ty Lee with tales of how he heroically saved Zuko from drowning in the royal baths the week before. _Honestly_  Zuko thought _I_ **wasn’t** _going to die. And I wouldn’t have been underwater anyway if_ **you** _hadn’t want me to—_

“Yes,” Katara continued, “our tribe needs a lot of support right now. Boats full of Northern Water Tribesman are coming to aid in the repair, and hopefully with the right architects and artisans we’ll be able to build a city and have our very own capital. Between you and me, the few villages that managed to survive the Fire Nation raids need a facelift.”

“Oh, I’m sure they’re just lovely,” Azula said. “Who doesn’t love a good frozen wasteland? Home sweet iceberg and all that.” She was toying with the stem of her wineglass and smiling thinly at Katara.

Katara smiled coolly back, “Well, it’s no churning pit of lava, but I certainly like it.”

“You do have such admirable taste,” Azula’s eyes flickered down the table to alight on Aang. He just so happened to be wearing his empty bowl on his head and performing some kind of intricate dance that involved climbing on top of his chair and swinging Momo through the air. Ty Lee and Sokka were laughing hysterically.

“Aang!” Katara’s face colored, “What are you doing?”

“Demonstrating a tradition Air Nomad wedding dance!” Aang said, a soppy smile plastered over his boyish face. “I had to improvise, though,” he pulled the bowl off of his head sheepishly, “we didn’t have the ritual scarves, so…” Momo finally struggled free and rebounded off of his shoulder, streaking away to hide under the sideboard. Angry chittering began to issue from beneath it.

“As I said,” Azula took a sip of her wine, eyes glittering maliciously, “such _singular_  preferences you have.”

“Sokka!” Zuko shouted desperately. Sokka was looking confusedly between their sisters, comprehension finally dawning, “Do you want to tell Katara about some of the work we’ve been doing?”

“Oh! Yeah! I forgot to tell you earlier,” Sokka grinned, “Zuko and I are starting a foundation to care for refugee children still suffering from the aftereffects of the war. You know,” his smile faded, “kids that lost their parents and their homes. Lots of them are still in temporary camps or homeless, even in the Fire Nation, so we were hoping we could set up a string of headquarters across the Nations…”

Zuko felt himself relax. They’d discussed the idea at some length with one another and with Iroh and Lu ten, both of whom thought it an excellent idea. They’d had several committees meeting about the issue, but having Zuko and Sokka in charge of the efforts—and bringing in private funding—would be a welcome change. He was strangely proud of both of them for finding a common cause to work together on, and he was secretly hoping that having a headquarters in each nation would give him an opportunity to travel more. He hadn’t given up on his hopes for a honeymoon.

“Children like yourselves, you mean?” Azula interrupted suddenly. Zuko whipped around. He hadn’t been paying close attention to Sokka’s lecture, considering that he’d heard it delivered before, but judging from the astonished expressions on everyone else’s faces, Azula had chosen a poor moment to be her usual delightful self.

“What?” Sokka spluttered.

“Oh, you know,” Azula waved an airy hand, “your poor mother died when you were a boy, and our little Zuzu could never meet the demands of our father up until the very day he burned his face off. So you want to help the other lost boys, don’t you? The ones who never had a proper mommy and daddy?” she affected a mocking, sing-song voice for the last few words.

Zuko felt cold. What was wrong with her? _Everything_  he answered himself fervently.

Katara stood up, facing Azula squarely across the table, “Just because _your_  mother created a monster doesn’t mean you have any right—“

“Don’t you DARE speak about my mother!” Azula shrieked, her composure broken.

“Mine may be dead, but at least she loved me,” Katara said savagely.

“Katara, that’s enough!” Sokka said, obviously appalled.

“Is it?!” Katara rounded on him. “Are you honestly going to sit by and take this?” She turned back to Azula. “You’re literally crazy, so I’ll say this once: if anyone here is trash, it’s _you_. You think that because you’re royalty, you’re better than us? All that I see is an unstable, cruel, conniving _bitch_. You aren’t fit to lick my brother’s boomerang, let alone deride my entire tribe! I—“

“You should bow before me, you Water Tribe slut! You and your pathetic tribe should have been wiped out like the Air Nomads! You’re unworthy to—“

“Enough, Azula,” Mai cut in, her voice quiet but very sharp. Azula and Katara both stared at her. She stood, shoving her chair back, and took Azula by the arm. “I think perhaps it’s time for Azula’s medication. She’s returning to the hospital this evening and I would hate to deliver her,” she turned her level gaze to Katara for a moment, “in multiple pieces.”

With that she dragged the still snarling Azula from the room.

Zuko collapsed back into his chair, but Katara let out a sudden sob and turned to run from the room.

“Oh shit,” Sokka’s face was still ashen as he turned to Zuko.

“I’ll come find you later,” Zuko promised, and Sokka nodded before hurrying after her. 

***

All that Sokka wanted at this point was to see Zuko. He was exhausted and emotionally drained and snuggling seemed in order. Fuck the mixed feelings from before, fuck his convoluted confusion about the Fire Nation, and fuck that persistent nagging that Katara had planted in the back of his brain. He needed to see his husband.

He’d successfully managed to calm Katara down enough to go to bed, with plenty of promises about Azula’s impending re-incarceration in the Royal Psychiatric Suite thrown in for good measure. He blew out a long breath. Much of this fell on him, he knew. He’d suggested to a dubious Zuko that she attend in the first place, and he’d honestly hoped that it would go well. _Naïve_  he shook his head.

He turned a corner and immediately ducked into a niche next to a large potted fern; Azula and Mai were standing ahead of him at the intersection where the corridor met the hallway leading to the palace entrance.

He peeked around the foliage. Azula was tapping her foot impatiently. Mai looked impassive as ever. They were evidently waiting for their palanquin to arrive. Sokka yanked his head back, trying to figure out an alternate route back to his chambers. Unfortunately, unless he wanted to traverse about three extra miles of hallway, his options were pretty much nonexistent.

Azula’s voice echoed back to him, and he stiffened. She sounded closer than he’d thought, but when he peered into the hallway, she was still standing down at the other end.

“We called the palanquin-bearers a half hour ago,” she complained, “Perhaps we should have them disemboweled.”

“Azula, you couldn’t even have them fired,” Mai said, “Let alone banished. So disembowelment probably won’t be happening tonight. Not that I don’t love a good organ removal.” Her voice was so dry that Sokka had no idea whether or not she was serious. He chose to believe she wasn’t.

“Oh Mai,” Azula sighed, “cheer up. Are you still mooning after Zuko?”

Mai sounded even stiffer than usual when she replied this time, “I don’t think I would call it ‘mooning’, Azula. He married someone else. I’m getting over it.”

 “Don’t worry about that sham of a marriage,” Azula said cuttingly, “Zuko will get tired of his new Water Tribe savage. He’ll come crawling back to you and you can crush his heart like he did yours.”

“Oh stop, Azula,” Mai said dispassionately, “Zuko actually seems to like the boy.”

“The boy may be exotic, true, but once Zuko has had his little walk on the wild side, he’ll see sense,” Azula carried on over the other woman’s protests. “He has refined tastes, my brother. He won’t want to slum it with his Water Tribe whore forever.”

“Whore?” Mai said. Sokka clearly saw her arch an eyebrow even from his poor vantage point. “They’re married, Azula. At the very least, he’s made an honest man of him.”

“Pfft, you can never make a savage honest,” Azula snorted. She waved away Mai’s words with an airy hand. “He doesn’t fit in here. How could he? He doesn’t know our ways, and the people don’t accept him. Fortunately our ways allow the prince to have lovers.”

“You don’t think I can do better than Zuko’s mistress?” Mai’s voice sounded wry, not offended.

“Of course you can,” Azula said impatiently. “The point is to break his spirit first.”

“That seems a bit melodramatic,” Mai sighed.

“Remember the last boy, Mai? Once he had his fun, he groveled before you. He’ll _always_  come back to you.”

“Perhaps,” Mai’s voice said that she was rapidly losing any interest she may have had in the conversation.

“Oh come now,” Azula said, and there was a slight crack of desperation in her tone now—Sokka saw her manic grin stretch her face unnaturally wide—“you’ve heard what people are saying. They whisper in the streets about a member of the royal family marrying a commoner—and one from outside the Fire Nation—and they question the honor of the Fire Lord for proposing it. It would be better for everyone if they separated. Except for Zuko, of course, once you reject him.”

“Azula,” Mai took her firmly by the elbow, “Our ride is here. And I think you need to stop relying on what you hear in the hospital. Your information might be…” she cast around for the right word, “faulty.”

“Faulty?!” Azula screeched, even as Mai forcefully handed her into the palanquin. “I am Fire Princess Azula! My information is of the utmost veracity! I—“

The palanquin was borne away, and Azula’s shrieks faded away into the night.

Sokka stayed in the niche until he was sure they’d departed, then stumbled out from behind the pot and stood in the hallway, breathing like he’d just sprinted the length of the corridor. Then he turned and staggered toward his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pleasepleaseplease don't think twice about adding kudos and comments. COMMENTS ARE MY FAVORITE. I love talking to you guys :-)
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> Update: [tumblr](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/) plug! Again!


	19. Should I Stay or Should I Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look away if you can’t stand the kind of sappy, angst-ridden stuff you’ve become accustomed to times, I don’t know, a BAJILLION. I’m almost ashamed, except that I’m not ;-)

Sokka sat on one of his new chairs in front of the fireplace, staring blankly into the flames. His mind was swirling on the surface, but beneath the thoughts breaking across the shallows, everything was strangely still. Holding its breath as though waiting for something to happen. Waiting for a new current to rip through the depths and dislodge the fears that had settled to the bottom like lead weights.

Zuko’s entrance into his room was very quiet. The door slid open a tiny crack, allowing a spear of light to pierce the darkness. Zuko’s pants susurrated softly as he closed the door behind him. He slipped soundlessly toward Sokka, coming to stand just to the side of the fireplace.

Sokka looked up at him. He looked oddly dwarfed beside the enormous grate, for all that he was taller than Sokka. He’d changed into something more casual: a set of Water Tribe blues that he’d long ago appropriated from Sokka’s wardrobe. His hair was loose around his shoulders and his feet were bare. Ordinarily Sokka would have been flattered and aroused by the sight of Zuko like this, dressed in his own soft blue pajamas, but right now all he felt was a sick twist in his gut. Was Zuko overcompensating for what had happened at dinner? Had he been keeping the truth from Sokka this whole time? Was Azula right, and he’d always known how the Fire Nation people were talking about him?

 _Water Tribe whore_  echoed through his head. He didn’t trust himself to speak, and so he stared at Zuko, whose hands twined nervously in his hem of his tunic.

“I’m so sorry about my sister,” he finally whispered. “It feels like I’ve been apologizing for her my whole life, but that…”

Suddenly Sokka felt an unmistakable ripple of anger travel through him. “You didn’t seem to have much to say at the time.”

Zuko looked up sharply. “You didn’t either,” he pointed out, “And Katara seemed more than capable—“

“She’s a mess!” Sokka interrupted, knowing he was being unfair. Katara was just fine; she’d faced worse against more credible enemies. But he beat that thought back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Zuko asked, confusion plain on his pale face.

“How you really felt? How this entire fucking nation feels!”

“About what?” Zuko’s undamaged eye was wide, the other stretched as far as it would go.

“About ME, Zuko!” Sokka stood suddenly and strode away from him, unable to bear the hurt look on his face. “You don’t _get_  it, do you? You’re a prince. You’re _their_  prince. And what am I?” He turned back to face him, but couldn’t meet his eye. “I grew up in an igloo! A motherfucking IGLOO. And you,” he gestured to him, “you were bred for this. My dad just got picked. I’ve never been any different from any other member of our tribe. I’m not special, and I’m definitely not enough for you or the Fire Nation. Whatever you wanted, Zuko, whatever you were expecting,” he let out a long, angry exhale, “I’m not it.”

“What?” Zuko looked like he’d been slapped. “Why are you saying this?”

Sokka laughed bitterly, “Oh I don’t know, because it’s true? I’m just this exotic savage that’s fucking the prince. How am I supposed to live here with that going on in everyone’s heads?”

“Who said that? Who said that to you?” Zuko demanded, his face murderous.

“Does it really matter? Everyone’s thinking it anyway.”

“Of course it matters!” Zuko yelled. “Was it Azula? Don’t listen to her! I’ll make her stop, I’ll—“

“No. That won’t change anything. I can’t live like this,” he shouted back. “I can’t live with the uncertainty!” _Uncertainty about what? How the Fire Nation people feel, or how Zuko feels?_

That pulled Zuko up short. He tucked his hair behind his ears with both hands. They were shaking.

“Ok,” he closed his eyes for a moment, doing a familiar pattern of deep breathes that Sokka recognized dimly as his habit when he was trying to calm himself. Sokka hadn’t ever thought to be the cause of that particular necessity. “Ok,” he repeated. “What—what are you thinking? What are you planning?” His eyes were still closed, but his face was rapidly becoming calmer.

“I d—“ Sokka began, but he was cut off by one quiet word from Zuko.

“Leave.”

Sokka’s legs gave out. At the very least that was the only explanation he had for why he was suddenly hanging onto the edge of his bed for dear life. He was experiencing a terrible sensation, like the tile floor had dropped away and he was hurtling down a dark tunnel, Zuko flying farther and farther away.

“Leave?” a very small voice echoed. Was that him?

“Isn’t that what you want anyway?” Zuko asked. “You’ve clearly decided. You’ve decided that you can’t live here, and so no one should force you. I certainly won’t do that. I _can’t_  be the one who does that to you. So just go,” the last word was ragged, broken.

Sokka’s mind was churning again, his thoughts hitting him with sharp, staggering force. He wanted to turn from them, but they assaulted him. He hadn’t been sure before about whether Zuko actually believed what he’d heard Azula say; he hadn’t thought in the deep recesses of his mind that Zuko thought he was cheap, a throwaway diversion that would soon run its course. But now he wasn’t sure about anything.

“We’ll still be married,” Zuko was still talking, and Sokka swam to the surface, trying to fight his way free, “you won’t have failed. You don’t have to be miserable. If that’s what this is about, if I’ve messed up, if you don’t feel the same way about me, I mean, I can’t change everyone, I don’t know what they say on the streets, I didn’t—“

Sokka was slightly disarmed by the sight of Zuko babbling… he was always the one who spewed out these disjointed monologues, whose thoughts flowed too fast to form into actual sentences before sharing with Zuko. What was he saying? What did he mean?

“It’s just—“ Zuko faltered, staring at Sokka with pleading eyes, “this is about you, Sokka,” the way his voice cracked on Sokka’s name was heart wrenching, “I can’t let you be unhappy. Whatever you need. You’ve made yourself clear.”

Had he? He was so disoriented. Everything had happened so fast, and he struggled to hold onto that thread of anger that had made him vent all of his frustrations in the first place. But now…

“I have to go?” he whispered, releasing the edge of the bed. Zuko swayed slightly as he took hold of his hands. He moved in close, his nose almost brushing Zuko’s. Zuko’s eyelids slid closed, his lashes fluttering against his pale cheeks. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

His mind was screaming at him that this was wrong, that if he tried for one last night with Zuko everything that Azula had said would be proven accurate: that he wasn’t worth anything more than to be an exotic sideshow in Zuko’s otherwise spotless life. But the rest of him was aching so badly for the comfort. He wanted to leave Zuko with something for _him_ , something that was only theirs.

But then Zuko lurched forward first, leaning down to kiss him. It was incredibly soft and so, _so_  sweet. The kind of sweet that Sokka would never have thought Zuko was capable of only a few months ago. His mouth was warm and for once there was nothing demanding, nothing hurried. Zuko was kissing him just for the sake of the kiss.

Sokka sunk into it, not even trying to fight, letting his entire brain shut down so that he could enjoy it. He’d already decided that he loved him, hours ago standing in that courtyard watching him pretend he wasn’t nervous to spend time with Sokka’s friends, and he’d told his sister he did, and he’d gone to find him in the training room just to _see_  if he could sense the same in Zuko, and… now he knew for sure.

But that didn’t change that Zuko didn’t feel the same. That Zuko was telling him to go.

The kiss changed. Suddenly Sokka was pulling Zuko backward to the bed, and he was falling onto it, Zuko tumbling on top of him. Their mouths separated, but it didn’t matter, because Sokka was rolling over to press Zuko into the mattress. He ripped the tunic over his head, glad that he couldn’t get distracted by kissing Zuko, because _spirits_ , he could kiss Zuko for days without getting bored.

He reached for his pants, but then hesitated, looking back up Zuko’s prone body. He was lying motionless on the pillows, his hands fisted in the sheets, his breath coming rapid and shallow. His eyes were very wide and very gold.

“Do you want this?” Sokka asked quietly.

Zuko nodded emphatically, then choked out, “But only if you do.”

“What about Mai?” Sokka said, speaking through a suddenly dry throat.

Zuko looked startled. “I don’t love Mai,” he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“But you did?” Sokka said, hands still at the waistband of Zuko’s trousers.

“Maybe,” Zuko whispered. “I was confused. I didn’t know what I wanted.”

Sokka considered for a moment. Then he yanked at the fabric, pulling the pants free so that he could run a hand up Zuko’s bare thigh.

Zuko shivered, and he lifted a hand hesitantly as though to stroke through Sokka’s hair. It hovered for a moment in midair, then dropped heavily back to the bed. Sokka barely noticed; he was too busy kissing his way across the flat expanse of Zuko’s stomach. He loved how wiry Zuko was, how full of hidden potential energy. He’d seen that energy burst into motion, flowing sinuously into his limbs as he sparred or danced or fucked.

Sokka’s hand followed his mouth, which left Zuko’s skin just as his chin began to brush curls. He tilted his head up to lick a hot line across his own palm. Zuko drew in a surprised breath as Sokka reached for his cock, his thumb rubbing over the head as his fingers contracted slightly.

Sokka couldn’t help it; he shifted up and tipped over onto his side so that he could kiss Zuko, who turned a little to accommodate him. His head bent awkwardly over his shoulder so that Sokka’s hand could stroke up and down his cock easily. His hips canted backward, rubbing over Sokka’s dick, but once again he was too caught up in Zuko to be aware of it. Zuko sighed resignedly into Sokka’s mouth, letting his hips drive forward instead, into the tight circle of Sokka’s hand.

Sokka stroked down faster, his other hand wrapping around Zuko to glide up his chest, fingers pinching at his nipple. Zuko gasped, his lips parting from Sokka’s as his head arched back onto Sokka’s shoulder. Sokka dropped his head to Zuko’s neck, inhaling the heady smell of firebender. _For the last time?_  his brain supplied unhelpfully.

  
His hand picked up its pace, jerking up and down Zuko’s cock mercilessly, his arm the only thing keeping Zuko still as he thrashed, calling out. Sokka knew Zuko well enough to feel how close he was, even without his choked, moaned warnings, “Sokka, I’m gonna come, I can’t—“

“Hold on,” Sokka finished, and Zuko obeyed, his hands grabbing at Sokka’s thigh and arm as he came. He rolled over in the circle of Sokka’s arms, groaning quietly when Sokka licked two fingers into his mouth experimentally.

“Yep,” Sokka smiled, fight forgotten for a moment, “you still taste pretty damn good.”

“You’re so weird,” Zuko grumbled into his chest.

“Yeah,” Sokka said quietly, smile fading, “I guess I am.”

They fell silent, and Zuko’s breathing slowed gradually, his body relaxing. They lay for a long time like that, with Zuko cradled against Sokka’s chest, head bowed to tuck under Sokka’s chin, legs bent and tangled to slot them together in spite of Zuko’s greater height.

Sokka hated this moment, even as he drew Zuko closer. He closed his eyes, wishing that this could be permanent, that Zuko could just *love him*, because how hard could it be? Zuko snuffled incoherently, and Sokka opened his eyes again. He stroked a hand up Zuko’s back and into his hair. It smelled freshly washed, and he remembered when they’d first met, and how he’d wanted so badly to touch it. It felt just like he’d imagined, like heavy threads of the finest silk. He buried his face in it, his breath stirring the strands.

“I know it doesn’t change anything,” he whispered. “But I love you.”

His lids fell shut again, hoping he could finally sleep, but then Zuko went stiff in his arms.

He wasn’t surprised when Zuko slid away from him and left the bed, which suddenly felt very cold. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to pretend a pang of regret wasn’t eating a hole in his chest.

Zuko got dressed in the darkness and left the room as silently as he’d entered it.

***

Out in the hallway, Zuko leaned against Sokka’s bedroom door, trying to calm the thudding of his heart. The guards on either side of the doorway studiously ignored him.

He came to a decision, standing up straight and hurrying down the corridor that led to the stairway connecting their suites. There was so much to do before tomorrow, so many arrangements to make. He had to act quickly.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Pretty sure The Clash never intended their song lyrics to end up the chapter titles in gay porn fan fiction based on an animated children's TV show. But there's something about that that I find ridiculously funny.
> 
> Update: Oh thank god, only, like, 3 more chapters to go. Here's my [tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	20. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the misleading chapter title, this is only the second to last chapter, not the actual last chapter!!!

Appa was packed, the boat carrying all of Sokka’s belongings was ready to cast off, and Sokka was sitting on an empty trunk staring at his deserted room. He’d elected not to join Katara and Aang on Appa and instead get back to his roots. Plus, more than anything else, he wanted the time to think.

He stood up. The furnishings were all staying; Iroh had been very serious about wanting him to have a set of rooms in the palace. Sokka wasn’t really sure what Zuko had told him, but the Fire Lord had visited early that morning to say goodbye and give Sokka some enigmatic parting advice, “I am glad that you can take your home with you wherever you go, Sokka. May that lead to your ultimate happiness in life. We will miss you here, but go with the knowledge that all of the people who love you most are with you.”

Sokka snorted and hefted his bag onto his shoulder. What did that even mean? Was it a veiled dig at Zuko’s lack of feelings for him? _Crazy old coot_  he thought, but the words had no bite to them. He had come to like Iroh, and he felt a strong sense of loss at the thought that he might not see him again for a long time. He felt an even stronger jolt of despair when he remembered that he wouldn’t see Zuko for an equally long period.

Except that the pangs were nothing compared to the dull ache that he’d felt all day. He hadn’t slept well after Zuko had left, and he was forcefully reminded of the days before he first arrived at the Fire Nation to meet Zuko. It was odd how many of the same emotions he was experiencing now: the anxiety and sadness, the fear and longing, the desperate hope that maybe things could still change. Funny how he was finally going back to the Southern Water Tribe, but didn’t feel any better about it than when he’d left. _Yeah, real funny_  he thought wryly. _You’re getting exactly what you wanted. And now you have to deal with it._

He left the room. He was dressed in his rattiest old tunic, his black pants tucked into a pair of soft leather boots. He’d strapped his boomerang to his hip and pulled his hair into its ponytail in the same methodical way he had every day since he’d become a warrior, but for some reason he didn’t feel the attendant surge of pride at the actions. They didn’t mean anything today.

He passed quietly out of the palace, starting down the slope of the volcano towards the docks. No one remarked upon his presence; likely they didn’t recognize this wan-looking Water Tribe youth as the same boy who’d married their prince months ago. Maybe that was a good thing. He didn’t feel like participating in any fights today.

The walk was welcome this morning. The sun was shining hot and bright, reflecting off of the tan paving stones of the street. He tuned in and out of the chatter of those around him, only starting out of his daze when he realized what some of them were talking about.

“—wonder when we’ll see children, the Water tribe prince would make the most beautiful babies—“

“—the wedding portraits have arrived in the shop, and I’m already sold out! I can’t seem to keep enough in stock…”

“I tell you, with Water Tribe fashion so popular in the city, I wonder what will be next! The dye makers’ business is booming from—“

Sokka stopped in the middle of the street. A man with a cart full of cabbages swerved to avoid him, cursing angrily as a few of them rolled away and bounced down the street. Sokka didn’t even hear him. He was turning wildly in every direction, trying to figure out who had been speaking. There were too many people in the street. A pair of old ladies sitting underneath a colorful canopy peered at him curiously.

“Lost, dear?” one of them called. “You must come here and tell me where you bought your tunic—it’s the most authentic I’ve seen of the whole lot!”

“My tunic?” he plucked at it, “It’s Water Tribe. Like me.”

“Oh my!” the other woman leaned forward eagerly, “Do you know the prince’s husband?” she fanned herself vigorously with a folding fan. “Such a handsome boy, though not really appropriate for my age,” she cackled.

Sokka felt incredibly disoriented. “No, I, he—“ he reeled back, realizing suddenly that the shop behind the women was selling commemorative royal wedding themed plates. His face was prominently featured in the center.

“Goodness!” the first woman gasped, following Sokka’s eyes to the plate. “Are you Prince Sokka? Sir, it is an honor!” she bowed her head deeply, and her friend followed suit, a deep red staining her already rouged cheeks.

“Yes, thanks, I, uh—“ Sokka blundered away down the slope towards the boats, his head spinning. _What is happening in the world?_  he wondered. He must be dreaming. There were women gossiping in the street about his baby making abilities and the Fire Nation was selling memorabilia starring his _face_.

He made it to the boat, but only barely. He was so full of trepidation that he had a hard time climbing the gangplank. _Have I made a terrible mistake? Was she wrong? Did_ **I** _reject Zuko, instead of the other way around?_

A sailor hurried up to him. “Prince Sokka, it is my most cherished duty to be delivering you to the Southern Water Tribe,” he bowed deeply, his crimson sash brushing the ground.

“Uh, yeah, are we leaving now?” he asked nervously. He couldn’t seem to breathe quite right.

“We can’t leave yet, sir,” the sailor said, looking confused. “Not everything is aboard.”

“What do you mean?” Sokka stared around, then down at the pair of men crating a large trunk up the gangplank. It wasn’t his. “All my stuff is here. And _I’m_  here. What else do we need? Supplies?”

“No, we’re fully stocked,” the sailor said slowly. “Enough for all the men and our passengers.”

“Passengers? What passengers? Who else—“

“Sorry I’m late!” came a breathless voice from behind him.

Sokka whipped around. Zuko was clambering onto the deck, his hair tied up into a high ponytail, his pale red robes swishing around him. He landed gracefully and rolled forward to join them.

“Wha—“ Sokka gaped at him.

“You see, sir?” the sailor said smugly, “Passenger _s_.”

“Are you all right, Sokka?” Zuko asked worriedly. He ducked his head to peer into Sokka’s face. His golden eyes were concerned. “You look like someone just hit you across the back of the head with a—“

“What are you doing here?!” Sokka gasped out at last. The sailor looked from one of them to the other, and, apparently deciding this was not a scene he needed to be a part of, hurried away muttering about checking over the supply logs one more time.

“What are you talking about?” Zuko asked. “I know I’m late, but I just had to say bye to Uncle, and I—“

“’Bye to Uncle?’” Sokka echoed stupidly. “Why?”

“Well I couldn’t leave without seeing him,” Zuko said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Leave?” Sokka repeated.

“Yes. Are you sure you’re all right?” Zuko took him gently by the shoulders, and Sokka started. “I know we fought, and you were being weird last night, but…”

“Weird? _I’m_  being weird?!” Sokka squeaked.

“Yes!” Zuko nodded emphatically. “You’re being _really_  fucking weird!”

Sokka opened his mouth, then closed it again, blinking up at Zuko. Then he grabbed him by the front of his robe and kissed him. Hard.

One of the sailors wolf whistled appreciatively, and the rest of them broke into hearty chuckles. Sokka swayed on the spot, penta-pussing himself onto Zuko even as he stumbled backward, obviously unprepared for Sokka’s assault. His tongue slipped easily into Zuko’s mouth, finally sparking a response. It wasn’t the response he wanted, however: Zuko’s hands tightened on his shoulders and pushed him away. He stared at him in blatant bewilderment.

“What the _fuck_  is going on with you, Sokka?!” he spluttered.

“You’re coming!” Sokka crowed, his arms still thrown around Zuko. Zuko thought he could dislodge him? _No way_  he smiled gleefully. _I’m way harder to get rid of than he thinks._

“Yes!” Zuko said, brow still furrowed, but his hands drifted down to stroke across Sokka’s back. “What did you—Oh…!” His expression cleared. “You thought—Oh no,” his eyes widened in horror. “You didn’t—but you did—oh shit. Oh Sokka,” he shook his head, “I’m so sorry. I am so, so sorry.

“And then…” his eyes went out of focus for a minute, “…when I left. You must have thought…” he looked back down into Sokka’s eyes, and the ferocity in them was scorching. “I love you,” he said firmly. “I just didn’t think you loved me back. I left last night because I was so excited you said you loved me that I sort of…” he pursed his lips thoughtfully, “I guess I sort of forgot. Oh jeez,” he frowned, “I’m such an asshole.”

“You aren’t allowed to leave anymore,” Sokka said into his neck. “Nothing good ever happens when you do.”

“No,” Zuko said softly, “I won’t do it again. I’m still working on this, Sokka. I was so scared you didn’t love me, but when I told you to leave… I’m just so bad at expressing myself. I meant that _we_  should leave.”

“You’re sure?” Sokka said, looking up to catch Zuko’s gaze. “You don’t mind leaving the Fire nation?”

“I *want* to, Sokka,” Zuko said, “I’ve wanted to for a while. I want to see the world with you, and I want to see your home and meet the people you grew up with. And I can’t live any place where you don’t feel welcome.”

“Ok,” Sokka nodded. He believed him. Oh gods, he really did. Not just because he wanted to, but because something in Zuko’s face and voice made it impossible not to. “But I don’t think Azula was right.”

“You don’t?” Zuko said.

“No,” Sokka shook his head, “I heard some things walking down here that didn’t make any sense with what she kept saying…” he pushed up onto tiptoes to kiss Zuko lightly. “She made it up, didn’t she? They don’t hate me.”

“No, I don’t think they do,” Zuko said. “But you were so quick to believe it, and I was confused, and it all happened so quickly. Maybe it had to happen this way, though. You need to go home, and I need to go wherever you are.”

Something suddenly slid into place in Sokka’s brain. “Your uncle knew you were leaving!” he exclaimed.

“Of course he did,” Zuko replied.

“That’s why he told me I was taking my home with me,” Sokka said. “He had this weird speech he gave me…”

“Yeah, he does that,” Zuko rolled his eyes.

“He was trying to tell me that _you’re_  my home,” Sokka said.

Zuko blushed, “Well that’s a little clichéd.”

“Yeah,” Sokka nodded happily. “It totally is.”

And then he kissed Zuko again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Zukka… I just looked back, and I realized that they totally make out a lot instead of actually talking through their feelings. Such men.
> 
> Update: [tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	21. Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are all about to be SO MAD AT ME.

The rocking of the boat was lulling Zuko into a doze. He watched Sokka from beneath hooded eyelids as he fussed around their cabin, folding robes and rearranging trunks. He had such a look of concentration on his face that Zuko almost had to laugh. Sometimes his passionate focus was a little ridiculous, but it never stopped being endearing.

“Come here,” he finally grumbled. Sokka jumped and turned to him with wide eyes. Apparently he’d thought Zuko was asleep.

“Ok,” he said softly, dropping a tunic to the lid of the trunk. He shuffled across the smooth wooden planks on bare feet, stopping at the side of the bed. All of their furniture was bolted to the floor or wall to stop it from sliding across the cabin if the seas got rough, and the bed was no exception. Zuko had to admit that it had advantages… no banging headboards, for instance.

He reached up and grabbed Sokka’s arm, yanking him unceremoniously on top of him.

“Hey!” came Sokka’s muffled voice.

“Oh stop,” Zuko rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling much more awake. “You don’t mind,” he smiled.

Sokka grinned back, “Of course not, but I have to keep up appearances.”

“Really?” Zuko snorted, fingering the tie in Sokka’s hair. It slid free easily, and Sokka’s hair tumbled down around his face. “I like you better like this.”

“Flatterer,” Sokka whispered. “How do you know this isn’t an intricately orchestrated ruse to get you into bed?”

“Because I was here first?” Zuko pointed out.

“So obviously the plan worked,” Sokka waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Zuko laughed, sitting up to lean against the wall. It had been carved to _look_  like a headboard, with a complex pattern of wooden slats crisscrossing the relief. It was surprisingly comfortable, especially with Sokka in his lap.

He sighed happily.

“Whatcha thinkin about?” Sokka asked, turning to lie against Zuko. Zuko trailed a hand down Sokka’s chest, fingers teasing up the edge of his shirt to stroke lightly across his hipbone.

“You,” he said.

Sokka tipped his head back to roll his eyes at him, “You’re such a fucking sap.”

“Oh?” Zuko asked. He leaned down to whisper into Sokka’s ear, “Maybe I was thinking about fucking you.”

“Really?” Sokka cocked an eyebrow, and his expression was suddenly predatory. “What makes you think I won’t be fucking _you_  this time?”

“Um.” Zuko blinked at him.

“Oh don’t worry,” Sokka laughed darkly, fingers twining into Zuko’s hair, “but being on the bottom doesn’t mean you aren’t in charge.” He yanked Zuko’s head towards him, and Zuko hissed at the sting as Sokka’s lips molded to his. Their teeth almost clashed, but somehow Sokka’s lips were still so soft that even when they were hungry like this, even when Sokka was being rough in that way they both loved, he managed to make it tender. What used to be dark and hot and bitter with other lovers somehow became what he needed when he was with Sokka. _Because you love him_  his mind reminded him. He couldn’t help curling further into Sokka at the thought, because now he knew that it was _ok_. Sokka loved him back.

Sokka chuckled as he dove further into the kiss and shifted in his arms, pushing his ass back to grind against him. He groaned, hips jerking without his permission, tongue sweeping into Sokka’s mouth.

“No you don’t,” Sokka growled, pulling away. Zuko blinked down at him in confusion. Sokka rolled over all the way, holding himself up with a hand on either side of Zuko’s head. “You aren’t in charge here.”

“Wha—?” Zuko managed, but then Sokka cut him off with a kiss that was more an attack, all teeth and spit and muffled _fuck_ s that he huffed into the tiny space between them when Zuko tried to breathe. He found his wrists pinned above his head, and he was dimly surprised when he realized that Sokka was holding him down with only one hand. He always won when they sparred, right? Was Sokka actually stronger?

But then he was thoroughly distracted because Sokka was ripping the sash from his robe and then he felt the soft cotton slide against his wrists. He’d learned enough in his time on the battleship to know that Sokka was deftly tying a sailor’s knot, but the way that Sokka was still kissing him with long, dragging lips and harsh, bruising force made it hard to care. It wasn’t until he was successfully trussed to the headboard that he thought to protest.

“What—what’re you doing?” he panted, staring at Sokka. His face was both mischievous and greedy, and his hands traced down Zuko’s arms. He shuddered; for some reason he could always feel his fire very acutely when he was with Sokka. Whenever he touched him it all surged to the surface, burning him from the inside out.

“You’re sweating again,” Sokka whispered, his eyes sparkling dangerously.

“Fuck you,” Zuko rolled his eyes.

“I like making a firebender sweat,” Sokka grinned evilly down at him, straightening to kneel over him. He ran a hand down Zuko’s chest, laid bare by the removal of the sash. Zuko did feel a sheen of perspiration break across his body as he tried to bow up from the bed but was held down by the solid weight of Sokka’s thighs and his wrists’ attachment to the bed.

Sokka planted a hand in the middle of his chest and rolled his hips forward deliberately. Zuko groaned, pulling harder against the ties.

“Do you really mind?” Sokka whispered. “Being tied up?”

Zuko hesitated, still trying to reach Sokka. Then he shook his head slightly. He collapsed back against the pillows, arms going slack, eyes sliding away from Sokka for his confession, “I like it.”

“Of course you do,” Sokka hissed, leaning down to bite Zuko’s lower lip. His mouth travelled across his cheek, tongue swiping across the bottom edge of his scar before Zuko even had a chance to try kissing back. Then it was coasting down his neck, across his collarbone, towards his nipple. Zuko closed his eyes, trying to contain himself and regulate his breathing even while Sokka fastened his mouth around his nipple. _Don’t light the boat on fire_  he sternly reprimanded himself.

But it was getting increasingly difficult. He wanted to lose control, and something about being tied up while Sokka teased him made it seem a little more acceptable to just let go and enjoy it. Except that torching their means of transportation would likely be a poor choice.

“Sokka…” he moaned, intending for it to be a warning. Instead it came out much breathier than he would have wanted to admit he was capable of, and all it inspired in Sokka was a low laugh. “Sokka,” he tried again. Maybe it was his tone, or that Sokka felt his skin heating rapidly, but he finally looked up, his tongue dragging across his pec torturously even while his fingers pinched at the other nipple.

“I’m…” he didn’t know how to explain. How did he put it into words that there was a very real danger that getting him this worked up, that putting him a situation that he found so conceptually, well, _hot_ , would lead to unexpected fiery consequences?

“You ok?” Sokka scrambled up, running his fingers under the sash’s knots experimentally.

“I’m, it’s not my hands, I…” he closed his eyes again, trying to breathe normally.

“Oh shit,” Sokka yelped. “You’re _steaming_.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Zuko rasped out. “I’m too…”

“Hot?” Sokka provided.

“Yeah,” Zuko muttered, suddenly embarrassed. He didn’t want to stop, but he was either going to come just from fucking foreplay, or else give Sokka some major burns. “I can’t… this just… I might lose it.”

“I want you to,” Sokka whispered. Zuko’s eyes snapped open, and Sokka was very close to him, his face open and genuine.

“That does _not_  help,” Zuko said weakly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Zuko, in case you hadn’t noticed, you’re fucking _tied up_ ,” Sokka said, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“It isn’t funny!” Zuko protested. “I don’t want to light you on fire!”

“Huh.” Sokka sat back, inadvertently pressing his ass more firmly against Zuko’s cock. “Oh! Sorry! Not helping!” he shuffled forward, and his own erection slid across Zuko’s abdomen. Zuko groaned. Literally nothing about this situation was helping. Especially not the fact that Sokka had his thinking face on. That was rarely a good sign for him.

“How about this,” Sokka finally said, just when Zuko was ready to cry from sheer frustration. “Can you do that thing Iroh did?”

“Oh my gods, _what?!_ ” Zuko sputtered. “Did you just say that?”

“No! Not like _that_! Ew!” Sokka said quickly. “Like, the bending thing! At our wedding,” he clarified. “When the fire didn’t burn us. Can you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko said honestly. The fire coursing through his veins was pulsing violently at every point of contact between himself and Sokka, and he just wanted it out, wanted to fuck Sokka in that raw heat and power, even if the bed was burning and the ship was going down and all that was left was the two of them and the _fire_.

“Try.”

Zuko took another steadying breath, then exhaled slowly. A tongue of flame licked out of his mouth. Through the glow he could see the expression of awe that crossed Sokka’s face, and _spirits_  if that didn’t make him even harder. Sokka reached forward, and he tried to still his automatic reaction to stop the flame. Sokka passed his hand through it and then brought the hand up to his face for inspection.

“Whoa,” he muttered.

“No burn?” Zuko asked anxiously.

“No. How did you do that?” Sokka stared down at him.

“I’m not really sure,” Zuko lied. It would sound too stupid to say that it was about remembering what their marriage ceremony had meant, about wanting to share his fire with Sokka without hurting him. Sokka always wanted to be the protector: Zuko didn’t want to emasculate him in this intimate moment.

“Oookaay…” Sokka said slowly, his eyes fastened to Zuko’s. “Will that help?”

Zuko nodded.

“Good,” Sokka lowered himself back onto Zuko, who hissed. “Then do it.”

“What?”

“Burn me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: Are you enjoying the porn? Want me to write more? Come fucking talk to me! I'm almost guaranteed to write you whatever your sexually-repressed little heart desires. [Tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)


	22. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So before I even put this out here, thank you all to the moon and back for the love and patience and for just being so wonderful in general. I loved writing this for you guys and I hope you enjoyed reading it just as much. I think this is the end of it, but who knows. Maybe I'll get bored and we'll all end up with more Jet flashbacks… the world is a crazy place and I'm a tired college student procrastinating on my actual work.
> 
> P.S. Warning for pretty rough sex

Sokka didn’t know what had made him do it, what weird Zuko-meter he had that told him exactly what Zuko needed, but tying him to the bed was the best decision he’d ever made. _Well it’s up there!_  he told himself as his brain provided unnecessary reminders about helping stop Ozai, or maybe marrying Zuko in the first place, or deciding to tell him he loved him, or… _I get the idea, brain._

And anyway, he didn’t want to be thinking about *anything* right then, because Zuko was tied to the bed and at his mercy, and how often did that happen?

 _As often as you want it to_  he told himself, and that thought alone almost made him squeal. Almost. That wouldn’t be manly.

What _was_  manly was the way he was making Zuko pant and moan and practically writhe underneath him. Some deep streak of masculine pride was definitely getting stroked, because Zuko was panting for it with every wide-eyed look and desperate groan. He was literally breathing fire, he was so worked up. And wasn’t that just the hottest thing ever?

 _Ok, you’re lowering your pun standards_  Sokka admitted to himself. But then he stopped caring, because his mouth was fastened to Zuko’s chest, and his teeth were teasing at his nipple, and why should he care about anything else right then?

“Sokka,” Zuko groaned, and a lick of flame flickered out on the exhale. It was soft and feather-light as it danced across Sokka’s scalp, and he shivered even though he knew it wouldn’t burn him. He was going to have to get used to that.

“Zuko,” he murmured back, lifting his head. Zuko was trying valiantly to sit up, his lips chapped from kissing, but swollen and pink as well, and Sokka couldn’t resist wrapping his arms around his neck to kiss him. It was deep and thorough, tongues and teeth and gasping moans and Zuko’s hips canting up to meet his even though they were both still wearing pants.

Why _were_  they wearing pants?

Sokka drew back, pulling at the waistband of Zuko’s trousers. Zuko let loose a feral noise to the affirmative, lifting up from the bed so that Sokka could yank them off more easily. He wrestled with his own, finally succeeding in getting them off. He wanted to take a second to compose himself, to reassert the dominance he’d been going for when he’d first begun seducing Zuko, but it wasn’t really difficult anymore.

He tackled him back against the pillows, ignoring the surprised gasp he earned when he scraped teeth across his collar bone, sucked a mark on his left shoulder, ran his hands across every expanse of skin that _wasn’t_  Zuko’s cock. And all the while Zuko kept exhaling little tongues of flame, letting them dance up into the air, lending their quivering light to the scene.

The muscles in Zuko’s shoulders bunched as he reeled up from the bed again, obviously frustrated. There was a desperate gleam in his eyes, and his voice was raspy and harsh, “Come on, Sokka, just do something already.”

“No you don’t,” he sat back, his expression grave. “You have to ask.”

“Ask what?” Zuko wailed. Fire darted out of his _nostrils_ , and Sokka tried not to be distracted by the potentially horrifying possibilities that implied.

“You have to ask,” Sokka pushed at his shoulder until he was reclining on the pillows, leaned in and spoke directly into his ear, “me to fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” Zuko grated, his voice small.

“Yes,” Sokka whispered, running his tongue up the shell of his ruined ear, “ask me nicely. You know ‘Sokka, will you please ride me until I’m begging to come?’ ‘Sokka, kindly fuck yourself on my—‘”

“Stop, you’re making it wor—“

“Hey!” Sokka grabbed a handful of hair and pulled, not too forcefully, but enough to get his attention. “I wasn’t done yet.” He bit Zuko’s earlobe, surprisingly soft even with the ropes of scar tissue crisscrossing it, “I was going to say ‘—on my dick until you can’t walk straight’. How does that sound?”

Zuko hissed, but held very, very still. Sokka smiled, but not against Zuko…it was no use letting him know how much he was enjoying this. Not when Zuko was finally playing along.

“Sokka,” his voice was deep and needy and Sokka had to work hard not to shudder, because _gods_  there was so much desire in that voice and he wanted to do this so badly, but he had to wait… “Sokka, I want you to…to make yourself feel so good.” Sokka held his breath, internally amused by how awkward Zuko was even now. “I want you to please,” his voice cracked from the strain, and Sokka felt heat trickle down his spine, like Zuko’s fire was stroking him where his hands could not. “Please fuck me. Please just do it. All of it. Whatever you want. Please.”

Sokka kissed him, never releasing the grip on his hair, using it to hold him close even though this kiss was the least tender one they’d ever shared, even though it was just to release all the pent of tension. It was more fuel for the fire, and god, Sokka hadn’t been kidding before, if this was Zuko’s fire, he wanted to burn.

“Oil?” he choked out, and Zuko nodded in the direction of the bedside table, his face flushed, his eyes wide, smoke rising sinuously from the corners of his mouth as he ran a shaky tongue across his lower lip. The way he watched Sokka with so much blatant wanting as he snatched the bottle from the drawer and dribbled it over his fingers… Sokka almost regretted letting his own eyes slip shut as he reached back to work a finger into himself. He wanted to watch Zuko watching him.

When he looked back up it was to see Zuko’s eyes following the bobbing motion of his cock as he worked himself open, sliding up onto his knees over Zuko’s thighs for better access. He grinned wickedly and used his free hand to grab hold of his own dick, stroking up and down for Zuko’s benefit as much as his own. Zuko groaned and licked his lips thirstily, gold eyes searing him.

“You’re such an asshole,” he muttered, but it had no bite to it. Sokka laughed.

“What about my asshole?” he leaned forward, propping up Zuko’s cock, and Zuko trembled, fingers clenching and unclenching above the crimson sash in frustration. The tip of Zuko’s cock slid into the cleft of his ass, and he reached down, slathering oil over him. He was used to this now, he knew that Zuko fit like no one else ever had or would or _could_ , but he still let loose an embarrassingly high-pitched moan when he bottomed out. Thankfully Zuko was splayed out across the pillows, his head thrown back into them while his throat worked furiously and that same incongruously soft flame blazed out of him. It was beautiful and hot and dangerous and Sokka was transfixed by the sight. The fire billowed up and out, across the ceiling without burning it, until they were almost encased in a web of dancing orange light.

And then Zuko’s lids snapped open and the eyes that met his were blazing just as brightly as the room, and Zuko made a noise, like nothing Sokka had ever heard before, and his hips drove up so hard and unexpectedly that Sokka was thrown forward, his hands finding purchase on Zuko’s chest…

Later he wondered at how hard it was, how rough, at how he even managed to keep up or pretend to be in control through it. All he knew at the time was that his nails were biting into Zuko’s chest, leaving scores across his flesh, that Zuko was surging up again and again to meet him at every thrust, and that the crackle of fire and the smell of sex was overwhelming. He kept writhing forward and backward as well as up and down, because when he did, oh spirits, when he did Zuko hit him in just the right spot, and when he did it again and again the spring coiling ever tighter in the small of his back threatened to release all at once, and he wanted it to.

“Touch yourself,” Zuko groaned, and it was so deep and hoarse that Sokka almost didn’t register the words. But he obeyed them, lifting a hand from Zuko’s abs to wrap around his cock. His fingers stroked in time with Zuko’s hips, and he bowed backward, moving up and down faster, harder, deeper…

Zuko came like an explosion, almost screaming as fire tore out of his throat, and Sokka would have been scared if he wasn’t so incredibly turned on, and he lurched forward as Zuko pulsed and jerked inside of him, overflowing. He kissed him, swallowing the fire, feeling the heat curl deep in his belly, feeling like it was fusing them together, like they weren’t two distinct beings anymore. He came with his hand still trapped between them, spilling wetly all over Zuko, but he couldn’t care, not when every part of both of them was already slick.

Zuko’s arms were pulled at an awkward angle from fighting to reach Sokka, from jerking upright as he came, and Sokka stroked down his biceps soothingly, feeling the muscles relax again. Usually by now Zuko was almost comatose, but he was still kissing Sokka furiously, and when Sokka reached up to yank the sash free and release Zuko’s hands, he found himself flat on his back.

“Zuko—“ he tried, but Zuko’s hands were crushing his mouth to his, his tongue licking deep into his mouth, his thumbs pressing hard against Sokka’s cheekbones. He was shaking, and Sokka opened his eyes. Zuko’s eyes were screwed tight shut, his lashes fanning long and spidery and glittering across his pale skin.

“Zuko,” he gasped out again. Somehow his cock was stirring again, already interested in another round, and he couldn’t find it in himself to disagree. Especially not when Zuko kissed down his chin, his neck, his sternum, his fingers digging into the hollow at Sokka’s hipbones.

He gulped when Zuko’s mouth engulfed him, and he could swear stars burst in his vision. There could never have been anything as hot and wet and sweet as Zuko’s mouth, especially when his throat opened and he took him deep, let him fuck up into it without any protest. He bobbed up and down, matching the roll of his hips and thighs, his fingers clenched tight around the curve of Sokka’s ass to steady him.

“Zuko, you, god, I’m, you—“ his brain was fried, not letting him string together a sentence, and Zuko’s tongue was licking across the head of his dick, and his fingers were in Zuko’s hair and he was, “Coming, shit, Zuko, I’m coming, I— _Zuko!_ “

He came hard, eye popping wide, body convulsing into Zuko, who took it, cum spilling into his mouth and across his tongue as he pulled back a little and swallowed. He licked up the underside of Sokka’s dick once more for good measure, catching every drop, his hands massaging gently at Sokka’s thigh.

“I—“ he looked down at himself dazedly, then up at Sokka, who was slumped backward, completely winded, “I’m sorry, I just…I *really* wanted to do that this whole time. That was all I could think about.”

“That’s…” Sokka could hardly speak. “Don’t say sorry. That was…so good. So much. Amazing. Whoa.”

“Did I break you?” Zuko dragged himself up his body, collapsing on top of him. He grunted at his weight, but couldn’t move himself if he tried.

“Yes,” he nodded fervently, and the feeling of Zuko’s laugh vibrating through him was like the fire from before. It lit something warm and soft and glowy in his chest.

“Good,” Zuko smacked him on the arm, “you fucking deserve it.”

“That was amazing!” Sokka protested halfheartedly.

“It was,” Zuko nodded in agreement.

“You didn’t get hurt?” Sokka asked suddenly, worried.

“Did you?” Zuko laughed. “I was really rough.”

“No! I’m great! I would have said if I wasn’t,” he promised. “And you?”

“I’m fine,” Zuko rasped. “We’ve had crazier.”

“I really don’t remember when.”

“Me neither,” Zuko admitted. “In the fountain?”

“Nah, that was just wet,” Sokka pulled a face. “On the roof?”

“Drafty,” Zuko smiled against his shoulder. “And almost lethal.”

“But fun,” Sokka pointed out.

“It’s always fun,” Zuko laughed.

“Except—“

“—when Lu Ten walked in!” they finished together.

“Poor guy,” Zuko wheezed, “Not what he wanted to see on his day off.”

“I still don’t know how we got my legs up that high,” Sokka mused, stroking his chin.

“You’re flexible,” Zuko murmured.

“Mmm,” Sokka agreed. His brain was fuzzing out, but he used what little energy he had left to brush Zuko’s long hair out of his face, smoothing it down his back.

“Love you,” Zuko whispered. He so rarely said it first that Sokka couldn’t help how his chest swelled with pleasure.

“Love you too,” he whispered. He was heading for sleep quickly now, but his last thought was that this was the first of many times Zuko would say “I love you” to him. And that was enough to make him fall asleep content. He had everything he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! Let me know again if you’d like to see anything in particular for the next story, which I’ll try to get around to writing whenever I have time. I’ll miss y’all <3 <3 <3
> 
>  
> 
> Update: [TUMBLR!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> At this point, I conceive of this universe as having a pretty different history in terms of the major events of the war, but with Sokka still having had lots of the same adventures with Katara and Aang and Toph that he had during the usual timeline… Of course in this case Zuko never left the Fire Nation, but I think that he would have had a big role in putting down a rebellion orchestrated by Ozai, and that's when he would have gotten his scar.
> 
> Update:[tumblr!](http://omgbeersforqueers.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Extra bonus update: [Fan art based on this story!](http://kadlebug.tumblr.com/image/140365255400) By the amazing [Kadlebug.](http://kadlebug.tumblr.com/)


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